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3 bios DE5 bt? 231

The

Works of George Berkeley

Vol. II

HENRY FROWDE, M.A.

PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OP OXFORD

LONDON, EDINBURGH

NEW YORK

The

Works of George Berkeley

D. D. ; Formerly Bishop of Cloyne

Including his Posthumous Works

With Prefaces, Annotations, Appendices, and
An Account of his Life, by

Alexander Campbell Fraser

Hon. D.C.L. Oxford

Hon. LL.D. Glasgow and Edinburgh ; Emeritus Professor
of Logic and Metaphysics in the University of Edinburgh

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Vol. II : Phil6Sophicai Vv'orks, 1732-33

Oxford
At the Clarendon Press

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OXFORD

PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

BY HORACE HART, M.A.
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY

121086

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CONTENTS

Alciphron; or, The Minute Philosopher .

In Seven Dialogues. Containing an Apology for the
Christian Religion, against those who are called
Free-thinkers.

First published in 1732.

PAGE

The Editor's Preface . \

The Author's Advertisement

Contents

The Dialogues . . . ,

The First Dialogue .

• 31

The Second Dialogue .

The Third Dialogue .

120

The Fourth Dialogue .

1^53

The Fifth Dialogue .

193

The Sixth Dialogue .

242

The Seventh Dialogue

317

The Theory of Vision, or Visual Language,
shewing the immediate presence and provi-
DENCE OF A Deity . . . . . . . 369

First published in 1733-

The Editor's Preface 371

The Tract 379

ALCIPHRON

OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER
IN SEVEN DIALOGUES

CONTAIMIMG AN APOLOGY FOR THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION
AGAINST THOSE WHO ARE CALLED FREE-THINKERS

■ Tbey have Torsaken me the Fountain of living waters, and hewed then
out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.'— Jer. ii. 13
' Sin mortuus, ut quidani Minuti Fhilosophi censent, nihil sentiam, non
li phllosopbi

irrideant. ' — Cicero

First published in 1732

EDITOR'S PREFACE

ALCIPHRON

OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

A LCIPHRON, or, The Minute Philosopher , published
•^^ in 1732, is the largest, and probably the most popular,
of Berkeley's works. The narrowness of the philosophy
of those who then claimed for themselves exclusively in-
tellectual strength and comprehensiveness, under the name
of 'free-thinkers/ is signified by its title. Alciphron,
or the 'strong man' in his own conceit, is presented as
a 'minute philosopher,' whose horizon is confined to*
data of, sense, excluding from his universe of reality the
spiritual or moral world and God, shown to be in reason
the chief realities of all. The atheism of so-called free-
thinkers is attributed to their confined intellectual vision ;
and its inconsistency with their claim to be the apostles of
philanthropy is argued, on the ground that atheism with-
draws the strongest motive to promote the common good,
which is man's chief end as a reasonable being.

In these Dialogues we find ourselves in an atmosphere
different from the earlier philosophical works of Berkeley.
Here social idealism, latent in the earlier works, takes
the place of the physical and metaphysical idealism

B 2

4 editor's preface to

of the Principles and the De Motu. More than ten years
have passed since the De Motu made its appearance.
Berkeley was then on his way from Italy to Trinity College.
The Minute Philosopher was prepared in his American
home in Rhode Island, and was given to the world on his
return to London, after he had essayed the most romantic
missionary enterprise of modern piety. The work bears
marks of the new direction in which his characteristic enthu-
' siasm was drawn. He sees more clearly that men are not
independent individuals : they are made for one another :
the material world, as a system of sense-signals, enables
them to make signs and have social intercourse, each re-
cognising that he is part of a whole, to the common good
of which he ought to contribute, and order his ways and
actions suitably — if he would live 'according to nature,' in
the high meaning of ' nature.'

In the De Motu, Berkeley was engaged in applying his
New Principles to restrain mechanical science within due
philosophical limits, as the interpreter of sense-presented
signs of sensible realities; their active, responsible, and
therefore ultimate Cause being beyond its ken, in data not
of sense but of inner consciousness. It was virtually an
inquiry into the meaning of natural or physical causation.
But in Alciphron moral or personal causes, and their social
relations, fill the view. His surroundings in the interven-
ing years help to explain the change.

On his return from Italy in 1721, he found England
depressed by the agitation and misery that followed the
collapse of the South Sea project. He set himself with*
eagerness to devise practical ways of relief. The low tone
of social morality shocked and distressed him. Perhaps
his active imagination and eager temperament exagger-
ated the symptoms. He seemed to find in a supposed
growth of atheistic freedom from religious restraints the
chief cause of the social maladies. At first his anxiety
found vent in the short Essay towards preventing the Ruin of

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 5

Great Britain^ offered by him to the world before the end
of 1721 ; the eloquent lamentation of a fervid social idealist,
biographically important as a forecast of its author's career
in middle life and after. It was the first symptom of practical
endeavour to realise around him a state of society nearer
to his own lofty ideal; the Cassandra wail of a sorrowful
prophet, who soon after turned his eye of hope to more
distant regions. In one of his letters to Lord Percival,
he tells that in the year after his return from Italy, he
had made up his mind to spend the remainder of his
life in Bermuda, in order to establish there a missionary
college 'for promoting reformation of manners amongst
the English in our Western Plantations, and for the propa-
gation of the Gospel amongst the American savages.' The
next seven years were largely given to negotiations and
preparations with a view to exchanging life in an Old
World of social decay for an American Utopia. In the
interval he had been advanced to the Deanery of Derry.
A multiplicity of affairs had arrested his pen, for in those
ten years his only publication was the few pages of A
Proposal for the better supplying of Churches in our Foreign
Plantations f issued in 1725, and the Verses on the prospect
of Planting Arts and Sciences in America,

In September 1728, devoted to this ideal, he sailed
for Rhode Island, on his way to Bermuda, fortified by
Sir Robert Walpole's promise of support. He there
made a home for himself, named Whitehall, in which he
lived for more than two years, but he never reached
Bermuda. It was in this home that Alciphron was written,
the issue of reading and meditation in the seclusion of the
ocean-girt island, pictures of which so often appear on its f
pages. The opening sentences in the First Dialogue
remind us of the disaster which befell the Bermuda pro-
ject, after long waiting in Rhode Island In other
Dialogues we are carried to the alcove among the rocks
on that magnificent coast, where he was accustomed to

6 editor's preface to

study, after he had exchanged the society of men of
letters in London and Paris for a solitude occasionally
broken by unsophisticated missionaries in the New
England Plantations, who travelled great distances to
visit him. The subtle intellect which had worked out
the Principles and the earlier Dialogues^ enriched by
experience of life in Europe and America, is found in
Alciphron offering a philosophical vindication of religion,
at a time when, according to Bishop Butler, it had come
'to be taken for granted that Christianity is not so
much as a subject of inquiry; but that it is now at length
discovered to be fictitious '/ And this application of his
New Principles to criticism of the 'minute philosophy*
of his age, takes the form of Dialogues more fitted than
any in English literature to recall the charm of Plato
and Cicero.

I Alciphron should be studied in the light of the history of
I English deism and free thought from Hobbes onwards; with
Mandeville and Shaftesbury, who figure in the second and
third Dialogues, and Collins more or less throughout,
especially in view^. The account of the knowledge
of God which man is intellectually capable of receiving,
that was advocated by two Irish prelates. Archbishop King
and Bishop Browne, should not be overlooked in con-
nexion with the fourth Dialogue and the seventh.

Although Alciphron is Berkeley's most direct contribution
to religious philosophy, it must be remembered that the
moral inspiration of all his metaphysical works was the
struggle — in the midst of which he lived —between those
who sought to exclude and those who sought to retain
faith in God, as the foundation and motive of human life.
The questions raised by English deists and atheistical
free-thinkers of his time were for him the living form of

* See Butler's Analogy — Adver- * See Lechler's GeschicJite des

tisement. The Analogy was pub- Englischen Deisntus. (Stuttgart,
lished in 1736. 1841.)

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 7

the perennial struggle between Faith and Scepticism. \
Moral reaction against materialism had spread the glow
of earnest human feeling over his earlier treatises, which
were intended to illustrate ' the incorporeal nature of the
Soul, and the immediate Providence of Deity in opposi-
tion to Sceptics and Atheists.*

There is a greater appearance of learning in Alciphron
than in Berkeleys earlier works. Authorities are more
frequently cited, ancient as well as modern, and allusions
are spontaneous and abundant that indicate greater famili-
arity with literature, and more extensive observation of
the world. The appeals to imagination, in the form of
rural pictures, are bold and striking, and in parts the
work has the charm and sentiment of a pastoral poem.

In March 1732, very soon after Berkeley's return from
America, the first edition of Alciphron was published in
Dublin, with the Essay towards a New Theory of Vision
appended, 'printed for G. Risk, G. Ewing, and W. Smith,
booksellers in Dame Street,' and in London, 'printed for
J. Tonson, in the Strand ' : a second London edition
followed later in the same year. Each of these editions was
in two volumes : the first contained Dialogues I-V, and the
second Dialogues VI and VII, along with the New Theory
of Vision, The title-page of the first volume presents in
vignette the 'fountain of living waters,' and the 'balances
of deceit ' appear on the title-page of the second. These
quaint characteristic engravings are here retained. A
third edition of Alciphron, in one volume, was published
in London in 1752 (the year before the author's death), as
mentioned in an Appendix to the Oxford edition of the
Collected Works. Its existence became known to me
only when that edition was almost out of the press.
Mr. Sampson has since drawn attention to the curious
fact that a third edition exists in two forms, identical
in date, but not in contents. One is a careless reprint

8 editor's preface to

of the first edition, full of obvious errors, while the other
contains a carefully revised text A notable change in the
third edition is the omission of what formed sections 5,
6, 7 in the Seventh Dialogue, directed, against abstract
general ideas. Does this omission mean that he had
modified his early ardent Nominalism in advanced life ?
Alciphron has been frequently republished since Berke-
ley's death. Changes introduced by the author into
the second and third editions, and afterwards omitted,
seemingly by inadvertence, in the posthumous republica-
tions, are restored in the present edition.

A French version appeared at the Hague in 1734. It
was the earliest translation of any of Berkeley's writings
into a foreign language ; Siris followed, at Amsterdam, in
1745, and in 1756 the Dialogues between Hylas and
Philonous were translated into German.

The first American edition was published at Newhaven
in 1803, with a Preface by Dr. Timothy Dwight, President
of Yale College, who describes the author as 'one of the
first philosophers of any age or country.'

The first of the seven Dialogues in Alciphron is intro-
ductory; the second and third are ethical; the fourth,
on which the treatise turns, is an argument, founded on
the New Theory of Vision, for the existence and universal
Providence of God, indispensable to the vitality of virtue
and the practice of morality; the three last discuss the
individual and social utility of Christianity; the miracu-
lous signs of its being a true revelation of God ; and its
involved mysteries, argued to be unreasonable objec-
tion to faith in its contents. Berkeley's ingenuity and
fancy are employed in defending moral order against
ethical theories founded on selfishness, like Mandeville's,
or on taste, as he interpreted Shaftesbury's ; while his
own metaphysical philosophy is engaged for the support
of theism, and in refutation of objections to its articulate

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 9

^velopment in Christian form. The advantage to good-
ness of faith in a future life; the Active Intelligence
which governs the universe that we enter when we become
percipient; the sufficiency of evidence for the reasonable
demands of iaith, notwithstanding the mysteries of re-
ligion, are all presented in the light of ethical or meta-
physical philosophy, and of experience of the world.
. In the discussion, Alciphron (Strong-Mind) and Lysicles
represent 'minute philosophy,' or 'free-thinking'; the former
in its more intellectual aspect, and the latter as found
among _shallow men of the world who live for pleasure.
Euphranor unfolds reason latent in religion, and Crito
moderates in the debate. Dion, who personates Berkeley,
is mostly a spectator.

In the First Dialogue, the party try to discover some
general principles in which they can all agree. At the

(end of this Dialogue, Alciphron acknowledges that all
lieliefs found to be absolutely indispensable to the common
ireal must be principles that are natural to man. He had
previously argued (sect. 9) that the sensual appetites and
passions are the only genuine constituents of human
nature; and that faith in God and in life after death
has been artificially produced by education : those beliefs
differ in different nations and ages ; and a principle cannot
be 'natural' to the human mind unless it appears in
all men from birth {sect. 14). What genuine naturalness
consists in, and by what marks it may be recognised, are
accordingly discussed {sect. 14-16). Alciphron is obliged
to allow that beliefs which fail to shew themselves upon
our first entrance into the world, and which are only im-
perfectly developed, or not developed at all, in many men,
may be latent in human nature. He grants at last to
Euphranor that the proper measure of moral truths is
their tendency to promote the good of mankind ; and that,
since men exist for one another, each should consider
part of a social whole, to the common good of

lo editor's preface to

which he is bound by the highest motives. So the
question to be discussed in the Dialogues that follow
resolves itself into this : — Has faith in Moral Order,
Providence, and a Future Life, from which minute philo-
sophers release themselves, a tendency to promote the
highest good of mankind ? Is it needed as true rational-
ism, for the full satisfaction of reason ?

The Second Dialogue is intended to refute Mandeville,
whose Fable of the Bees, with its maxim ' private vices are
public benefits,' and its satire upon man, was in vogue at
the time. Lysicles, the light-hearted worlding, represents
Mandeville. Granting the principle already accepted that
the good of society is the test of right action, are not the
vices of individuals, he asks, universally useful ? Are not
virtue and faith in God, on the other hand, inconsis-
tent with the general happiness? In the discussion of
this question, the place of man in nature and the differ-
ences in kind among pleasures are considered, as well
as the social injury done by indulgence in pleasures which
degrade the individual below the true human ideal.

In the Third Dialogue, Alciphron, adopting Shaftes-
bury, reduces conscience to taste, enlarges upon the beauty
of virtue, and disparages faith in a future life as a selfish
and cowardly appeal to hope and fear. Against this
Euphranor maintains that a sense of the beauty of good-
ness is inadequate for making us good, as man needs for
^is a stronger and more awe-inspiring motive than taste :
the springs of action must be sustained by faith in the
destiny of man under God. The Third Dialogue leads
to the connexion between Morality and Religion.

But the true thinker asks for reason in the faith that
God exists. The foundation and nature of this belief is,
accordingly, discussed in the Fourth Dialogue, in which
the whole argument concentrates. Here Euphranor in-
troduces Berkeley's conception of the sensible world as
a visible symbolism into the discussion, arguing (sect.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER II

8-15) that, as the visible world is a sensible expression
of Intelligence and Will, each man has the same kind of
evidence that God exists which he has that a fellow man
exists when he hears him speaking. The visible world
is, accordingly, a Divine Language, which contains all the
signs of a perpetually present God that human words do
of a man when he is actually addressing us. And our
knowledge of God, Crito maintains (sect. 19-21), is more
than negative ; negative knowledge of God being practically
useless. The reasoning here is opposed to analogical
theories of Archbishop King, in his Sermon on Pre-
destination (1709), and of Bishop Browne, in his Answer to
Toland (1699), his Procedure, Extent, and Limits of Human
Understanding (1728), and his Analogy (1733) ^ We know
God, Crito concludes, as a living Spirit, who is continually
communicating with others in and through the symbolism
of the visible world.

The three remaining Dialogues are a vindication of reli-
gion in its Christian form. I n the Fifth Dialogue, Christianity
is represented as proved by the experience of mankind to
be the most useful and ennobling form of religious worship,
socially elevating far above Greek and Roman and all
other religions; in the Sixth, it is argued in the faith
of miracles, events reported in history with a probability
sufficient to justify practical faith ; and, in the Seventh,
as not necessarily incredible on account of the mysteries
of Grace, Incarnation, Trinity, and Moral Agency, which*
are not more mysterious than those found at the root
of natural science, and indeed of all human experience.

That Christian thinking is true free-thinking is the
lesson of the Minute Philosopher: Christian Faith is

' The last of those works of pervades the two earlier ones.

Browne was published after the King's analogical knowledge of

appearance of Alciphron^ which he God is criticised by Browne,
criticises. The theory, however,

EDITOR S PREFACE TO

Wisdom in its highest form. Berkeley's Alciphron may
rank with the Analogy of Butler, and the Pensees of
Pascal, as memorable works of the eighteenth and the
preceding century in the religious philosophy of Europe.

The Minute Philosopher was attacked soon after its
appearance.

The Fourth Dialogue, along with its Theory of Vision,
occasioned the Letter from an Anonymous Writer, in the
Daily Post Boy, to which Berkeley replied in his Vindication
and Explanation of Visual Language,

The^ attack upon the Fable of the Bees, in the Second
©falogue, called out Mandeville, whose Letter to Dion, occa-
sioned by his book called Alciphron (1732), complains of
misrepresentation, and takes refuge under cover of its own
ambiguous principles \

A flippant attack upon the whole performance followed,
in a tract entitled Remarks on the Minute Philosopher: in
a Letter from a Country Clergyman to his Friend in London.

* Mandeville's Fable of the Bees
Appeared in 17 14, in the form of a
short apologue in verse, called The
Grumbling Hive : or Knaves turned
honest. To these verses the author
added long notes and illustrations
under the name of* Remarks.' He
afterwards composed six dialogues
in defence of his doctrine, and
published the whole, in 1728, as
a prose treatise in two volumes,
entitled The Fable of the Bees : or
Private Vices Public Benefits, One
professed purpose of the book is
to shew that selfishness, luxury,
and lust, indulged to a certain
extent, are the foundation and
motive force of social prosperity ;
that the welfare of society is
dependent on the immorality of
its individual members. This the
author tries to prove, by tracing
to their consequences some ex-
amples of vicious actions. The
original work excited popular

attention, and was presented as
a nuisance by the grand jury of
Middlesex, in 1723. The Present-
ment states that books and pamph-
lets are published almost every
week against religion and morality ;
which affirm fate, deny Divine
Providence, and recommend lux-
ury, avarice, sensuality, and other
vices, as necessary to the pub-
lic welfare. Mandeville, in his
Letter to Dion, explains that he
means merely, Uiat vice often proves
advantageous to the worldly interest
of those who are guilty of it, and
to the societies of which they are
members. He died in 1 733. Tenne-
mann says that Berkeley's Alciphron
is chiefly directed against Mande-
ville and Bishop Browne, but in
fact only one of the Seven Dialogues
is devoted to the moral heresies of
the former, and a few sections in
another to Browne.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 13

I^The so-called 'Country Clergyman ' was John, Lord Hervey,
the 'Sponis' of Pope, a familiar figure at the Court of
Queen Caroline, the inner life of which he has so vividly
presented to us. Hervey objects to the employment of
reasoning, especially subtle reasoning, in matters of faith,
denies that Atheism is a characteristic of so-called free
thinkers, charges Berkeley with misrepresenting the Fable of
the Bees, and himself misrepresents the theory of 'Visual
Language '.'

Among other tracts due to Alciphrott, there is a curious
one, dated 'Near Inverness, August 1732,' in the fonp of
a letter to a friend in Edinburgh, entitled A Vindication
of the Reverend D — B^y from llie scandalous impulation of
being the author of a late booh, entitled 'Alciphrott, or, the
Mittule Philosopher.' To the Vindication are subjoined
' the predictions of the late Earl of Shaftesbury con-
cerning the book, together with an Appendix, and an

LAdverti semen t '.'

H 1 The Country Clergyman sums
litip his Rtmaris as follows ■—

• /"irs;, That, as the Minute Philo-
sopher professes writing to the
Free-thinkerE of the present age,
he should have left Atheism quite
out of the question ; because it is
not the error of these times.

'Stcondty. Thai if it were, he is
likelier (,by telling people hU are
the best arguments to prove a God)
to make than to convert atheists.

' Thirdly, That metaphysics are
an improper method to take for the
support of Christianity ; because,
whatever is designed for common
use should be levelled to common
apprehension, and whatever is to
be universally received ought to
be univerirally understood.

'FourOily, That as metaphysics
are generally the most obscure of
sll writings, so his writings are
Ihemo»l obscure of all metaphysics,

> And Lastly, That, byhis manner

of handling every proposition, he
always does one or other of these
three things ; — he either begs the
question, by some arbitrary de-
cision at the end of the dispute,
which he had just as good a right
to make at the beginning of it (as
in the 16th section of the First
Dialogue, and tlie and of the
Fifth) ; or he puzzles and per-
plexes the question so much that
nobody can pick out any decision
at all (as in his Visual Language') ;
or else he inadvertently gives up
the question, by some slip in the
course of reasoning, which he can
never afterwards retrieve.'

' For the 'predictions,' see
Shaftesbury's CharacltrisHcs, vol,
III . pp. 391-396 (linh edition, 173a),
where he gives reasons ' for avoid-
ing the direct way of DialogHi;
which at present lies so low, and
is used only now and then, in our
party pamphlets, or new-fangled

editor's preface to

The most important parts o( Alciphron are so connected
with Berkeley's conception of the material world, and that
conception was so ill understood by his contemporaries,
that the work obtained imperfect appreciation in contem-
poraneous criticism.

Soon after Berkeley's arrival in Rhode Island, he was
visited by the Reverend Samuel Johnson, missionary of
the Church of England at Stratford in Connecticut, an
acute thinker, and a recent convert to Berkeley's Prin-
ciples, which he regarded as the best philosophical support
of religious faith. More than twenty years after his inter-
course with Berkeley in Rhode Island, Johnson pro-
duced his Elementa Philosophica, 'printed by Benjamin
Franklin, at Philadelphia,' in 1752. This little book con-
sists of two parts — * Nostica, or things relating to the
Understanding, and Ethica^ or things relating to the moral
behaviour.' It is dedicated to Berkeley, and adopts his
philosophical principles \

At Rhode Island, besides successive visits of Johnson,
Berkeley corresponded with him on questions of philo-
sophical theology with which they were both engaged. As
early as June 25, 1729, Berkeley wrote in reply to in-
quiries and difficulties of Johnson regarding his Immate-
rialism. The letter is biographically as well as philosophi-
cally interesting, and along with the letter which follows

theological essays. For of late
Dialogue has been introduced into
Church-controversy, with an at-
tempt of raillery and humour, as
a more successful method of deal-
ing with heresy and infidelity. The
burlesque-divinity grows mightily
in vogue. And the cried- up answers
to heterodox discourses are gener-
ally such as are written in drollery,
or with resemblance of the facetious
and humorous language of conver-
sation.' So also vol. I. pp. 65-67,
and vol. III. p. 6. — Warton, by

the way, records the remark ol
Hurd, that there were only three
Dialogues in English that deserved
applause — the Moralists of Shaftes-
bury; Mr. Addison's Treatise on
Medals ; and the Minute Philosopher
of Berkeley. See his Essay on
the Genius and Writings of Pope,

The * Advertisement * is a squib
occasioned by Dial. V. sect. 22.

* This work is rarely found. I
am indebted to Mr. Sibley, libra-
rian of Harvard University, for a
sight of it

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 15

it, deserves a place among Berkeley's Works, especially in
connexion with Akipkron, which was in preparation at the
time they were written '. Here is the first letter : —

Reverend Sir,
The ingenious letter you favoured me with found me very
much indisposed with a gathering or imposthumation in my
head, which confined me several weeks, and is now, 1 thank
God, relieved ^ The objections of a candid thinking man to
what I have written will always be welcome, and I shall not

fail to give all the satisfaction I a

I able.

;, not without hopes o_
convincing or l>eing convinced. It is a common fault for men to
hate opposition, and be too much wedded to their own opinions.
I am so sensible of this in others that I could not pardon it to
myself if I considered mine any further than they seem to me
to be true ; which I shall the better be able to judge of when
they have passed the scrutiny of persons so well qualified to
examine them as you and your friends appear to be, to whom
my illness must be an apology for not sending this answer

I. The true use and end of Natural Philosophy is to explain
the phenomena of nature ; which is done by discovering the laws
of nature, and reducing particular appearances to them. This is
Sir Isaac Newton's method ; and such method or design is not
in the least inconsistent with the principles I lay down. This
mechanical philosophy doth not assign or suppose any one
natural tffieteni cause m the strict and proper sense ; nor is it,
as to its use, concerned about matter; nor is matter connected
therewith ; nor doth it infer the being of matter'. It must be .
owned, indeed, that the mechanical philosophers do suppose
(though unnecessarily) the being of matter'. They do even pre-
tend to demonstrate that matter is proportional to gravity, which,
if they could, this indeed would furnish an unanswerable objec-
tion. But let us examine their demonstration. It is laid down
in the first place, that the momentum of any body is the product
irf its quantity by its velocity, moles in celeritatem ducta. If,
therefore, the velocity is given, the momentum will be as its
quantity. But it is observed that bodies of all kinds descend in
vacuo with the same velocity ; therefore the momentum of
descending bodies is as the quantity or moles, i, e, gravity is as

' See my Life and Leiltrs of his letters from this date onwards

Ai-<k/rv(t87i), pp. 178-83, where to the end of his life.
they appear in part. ' i.e. independent matter, un-

' This is one of the not infre- realised in percipient life,
t references to ilt-heaith i

i6 editor's preface to

matter. But this are^ument concludes nothing, apd is a mere
circle. For, I ask, wnen it is premised that the momentum is
equal to the ntoles in celeriiatem ducfa, how the moles or quantity
of matter is estimated ? If you say, by extent, the proposition is
not true ; if by weight, then you suppose that the quantity of
matter is proportional to matter ; i. e, tne conclusion is taken for
granted in one of the premises. As for absolute space and
motion, which are also supposed without any necessity or
use, I refer you to what I have already published ; particularly
in a Latin treatise, De Motu, which 1 shall take care to send
to you.

2. Cause is taken in different senses. A proper active
efficient cause I can conceive none but Spirit ; nor any action,
strictly speaking, but where there is Will. But this doth not
hinder the allowing occasional causes (which are in truth but
signs) ; and more is not requisite in the best physics, t. e, the
mechanical philosophy. Neither doth it hinder the admitting
other causes besides God ; such as spirits of different orders,
which may be termed active causes, as acting indeed, though by
limited and derivative powers. But as for an unthinking agent,
no point of physics is explained by it, nor is it conceivable.

3. Those who have all along contended for a material world
have yet acknowledged that natura naturans (to use the lan^age
of the Schoolmen) is God ; and that the divine conservation of
things is equipollent to, and in fact the same thing with, a con-
tinued repeated creation : in a word, that conservation and
creation differ only in the terminus a quo. These are the com-
mon opinions of the Schoolmen ; and Durandus, who held the
world to be a machine like a clock, made and put in motion by
God, but afterwards continuing to go of itself, was therein par-
ticular, and had few followers. The very poets teach a doctrine
not unlike the schools, — Mens agitat molem, (Virg. ^neid VI.)
The Stoics and Platonists are everywhere full of the same notion.
I am not therefore singular in this point itself, so much as in my
way of proving it. Further, it seems to me that the power and
wisdom of God are as worthily set forth by supposing Him to act
immediately as an omnipresent infinitely active Spirit, as by sup-
posing Him to act by the mediation of subordinate causes, in
preserving and governing the natural world. A clock may
indeed go independent of its maker or artificer, inasmuch as
the gravitation of its pendulum proceeds from another cause, and
that the artificer is not the adequate cause of the clock ; so that
the analogy would not be iust to suppose a clock is in respect
of its artist what the world is in respect of its Creator. For
aught I can see, it is no disparagement to the perfections of
God to say that all things necessarily depend on Him as their
Conservator as well as Creator, and that all nature would shrink
to nothing, if not upheld and preserved in being by the same

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

plbrce that fir st cre ated it. This 1

sophers ; and if it
tools and machines
shall think it no honour

sure is agreeable to Holy

writings of the most esteemed philo-

to be considered that men make use of

supply defect of power in themselves, we

D tne Divinity to attribute such things

4. As to guilt, it is the same thing whether I kill a (nan with
my hands or an instrument ; whether I do it myself or make use
o! a ruffian. The imputation therefore upon the sanctity of God
is equal, whether we suppose our sensations to be produced
immediately by God, or oy the mediation of instruments and
subordinate causes, all which are His creatures, and moved by
His laws. This theological consideration, therefore, may be
waved, as leading beside the question ; for such I hold all points
to be which bear equally hard on both sides of it. Difficulties

about the

ciple of moral a

3 will cease, if we consider

that all guilt is in the will, and that our ideas ', from whatever
cause they are produced, are alike inert.

5. As to the art and contrivance in the parts of animals, iSrc,
I have considered that matter in the Principles of Human Know-
ledge, and, if I mistake not, sufficiently shewn the wisdom and
use thereof, considered as si^ns and means of information.
] do not indeed wonder that on farst reading what I have written,
men are not thoroughly convinced. On tne contrary, I should
very much wonder if prejudices, which have been many years
taking root, should be extirpated in a few hours' reading. I had
no inclination to trouble theworld vrith large volumes. What
I have done was rather with a view of giving hints to thinking
men, who have leisure and curiosity to go to the bottom of things,
and pursue them in their own minds. Two or three times
reading these small tracts, and making what is read the occasion
of thinking, would, I believe, render the whole familiar and easy
to the mind, and take off that shocking appearance which hath
oflen been observed to attend speculative truths.

6. 1 see no difficulty in conceiving a change of state, such as is
vulgarly called Death, as well without as with material substance.
It IS sufficient for that purpose that we allow sensible bodies,
#.t such as arc immediately perceived by sight and touch ; the
existence of which I am so far from (juestioning (as philosophers
are used to do), that I establish it, I think, upon evident principles.
fJoWi it see ms very easy to conceive the soul toisist in a separ-
at g stat g (i.e. divested from those limits and laws of motion and

: call bodies. It i

ttiBt are presented ti

i8 editor's preface to

how the soul may have ideas of colour without an eye, or of
sounds without an ear.

And now, Sir, I submit these hints (which I have hastily
thrown together as soon as my illness gave me leave) to your
own maturer thoughts, which after all you will find the best
instructors. What you have seen of mine was published when
I was very young, and without doubt hath many defects. For
though the notions should be true (as I verily think they are),

J^et It is difficult to express them clearly and consistently,
anguage being framed to common use and received prejudices.
I do not therefore pretend that my books can teach truth. All
I hope for is, that tney may be an occasion to inquisitive men
of discovering truth, by consulting their own minds, and looking
into their own thoughts. As to the Second Part of my treatise
concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge, the fact is
that I had made a considerable progress in it ; but the manu-
script was lost about fourteen years ago, during my travels in
Italy, and I never had leisure since to do so disagreeable a thing
as writing twice on the same subject.

Objections passing through your hands have their full force
and clearness. I like them the better. This intercourse with
a man of parts and philosophic genius is very agreeable. I sin-
cerely wish we were nearer neighbours^. In the meantime,
whenever either you or your fnends favour me with their
thoughts, you may be sure of a punctual correspondence on
my part. Before I have done I will venture to recommend
these points : i. To consider well the answers I have already
given in my books to several objections. 2. To consider
whether any new objection that shall occur doth not suppose
the doctrine of abstract general ideas. 3. Whether the diffi-
culties proposed in objection to my scheme can be solved by
the contrary ; for if they cannot, it is plain they can be no
objections to mine.

I know not whether you have got my treatise concerning the
Principles of Human Knowledge. I intend to send it to you
with my tract De Motu. My humble service to your friends, to
whom I understand I am indebted for some part of your letter.

I am your faithful humble servant,

GEORGE BERKELEY.

Another letter, written after Berkeley was well settled in
his new home, shews that further explanation was needed
to set several things in a fuller and clearer light.

^ Stratford is about 120 miles from Rhode Island.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Reverend Sir,

Yours of Feb. 5th came not to my liaiids before yesterday ;
and this afternoon, being informed that a sloop is ready to sail
towards your town, I would not let slip the opportunity of
returning you an answer, though wrote in a hurry.

I. I have no objection against calling the Ideas in the mind
nf God archetypes of ours. But 1 object against those arche-
types by philosophers supposed to be real things, and to have
an absolute rational existence, distinct from their being per-
ceived by any mind whatsoever ; it being the opinion of all
materiahsts ' that an ideal existence in the Divine Mind is one
thing, and the real existence of material things another.

3, As to Space. I have no notion of any but that which is
relative. I Itnow some late philosophers have attributed exten-
sion to God, particularly mathematicians, one of whom, in a
treatise Dt Spalio Reali^, pretends to find out fifteen of the
incommunicable attributes of God in Space. But it seems to
me that, they being all negative, he might as well have found
thein in Nothing; and that it would have becnas justly inferred
from Space bemg impassive, increated, indivisible, Sic, that it
^vas Nothing as that it was God.

Sir Isaac Newton supposeth an absolute Space, different
from relative, and consequent thereto; absolute Motion different
from relative motion ; and with all other mathematicians he
supposeth the infinite divisibility of the finite parts of this
absolute Space; he also supposeth material bodies to drift
therein. Now, though I do acknowledge Sir Isaac to have
been an extraordinary man, and most profound mathematician,
yet I cannot agree with him in these particulars. I make no
scruple to use the word Space, as well as all other words
in common use ; but I do not thereby mean a distinct
absolute being. For my meaning I refer you to what I have
published.

By the ri vvr I suppose to be implied that all things, past and
to come, are actually present to the mind of God, and that there
is in Him no change, variation, or succession. A succession of
ideas I lake to conslilute Time, and not to be only the sensible
measure thereof, as Mr. Locke and others think. But in these
matters every man is to think for himself, and speak as he finds.
One of my earliest inquiries was about Time, which led me
into several paradoses that I did not think fit or necessary to
publish ; particularly the notion that the Resurrection follows
the next moment to death. We are confounded and perplexed

' Dc Spacio Reali, siu tnit In-
fiuito .- CoHaiHM Malh. Milaph.
U7061.

20 editor's preface to

about Time* (if Siq>posipga succession in God. (21 Conceiving
that we have an abstract i£a of Time. (3) Supposing that the
Time in one mind is to be measured by tm succession of ideas
in another, i^) Not considering the true use and end of words,
which as often terminate in the will as in the understanding,
being employed rather to excite, influence, and direct action,
than to produce clear and distinct ideas.

3. That the soul of man is passive as well as active, I make
no doubt. Abstract general iaeas was a notion that Mr. Locke
held in common with the Schoolmen, and I think all other
philosophers ; it runs through his whole book of Human Under-
standing. He holds an abstract idea of Existence ; exclusive of
perceivmg and being perceived. I cannot find I have any such
idea, and this is my reason against it Des Cartes proceeds
upon other principles. One square foot of snow is as white as
a thousand yards ; one single perception is as truly a perception
as one hundred. Now, any degree of perception l>eing suffident
to Existence, it will not follow that we should say one existed
more at one time than another, any more than we should say
a thousand yards of snow are whiter than one yard. But, after
all, this comes to a verbal dispute. I think it might prevent
a ffood deal of obscurity and dispute to examine well what
I have said about abstraction, and about the true sense and
significance of words, in several parts of these things that I have
published S though much remains to be said on that subject.

You saj'you agree with me that there is nothing within your
mind but uod and other spirits, with the attributes or properties
bcloHjging to them, and the ideas contained in them.

This is a principle or main point, from which, and from what
I had laid down about abstract ideas, much may be deduced.
But if in every inference we should not agree, so long as the
main points are settled and well understo^, I should be less
solicitous about particular conjectures. I could wish that all the
thinjg;8 I have published on these philosophical subjects were
rcacTin the order wherein I published them ; once, to take in the
design and connexion of them, and a second time with a critical
eye, adding your own thought and observation upon every part
as you went along.

1 send you herewith the bound books and one unbound.
You will take yourself what you have not already. You will
give the Principles^ the Theory^ and the Dialogues^ one of each,
with my service, to the gentleman who is Fellow of Newhaven
College, whose compliments you brought to me. What remains
you will give as you please.

If at any time your affairs should draw you into these parts,
you shall De very welcome to pass as many days as you can

1 Sec especially the Introduction to the Pnndpks 0/ Human Knowledge^

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 21

spend at my house. Four or five days* conversation would set
several things in a fuller and clearer light than writing could do
in as many months. In the meantime, I shall be glad to hear
from you or your friends, whenever you please to favour,

Reverend Sir,

Your very humble servant,

GEORGE BERKELEY.

Pray let me know whether they would admit the writings of
Hooker and Chillingworth into the Library of the College in
Newhaven \

Rhode Island, March 24, 1730.

When Berkeley was in Rhode Island, America possessed
in Jonathan Edwards, at Northampton, its most illustrious
/ metaphysician, of whom it has been truly said that he laid
/ the foundation of its independent literature, unsurpassed
among his contemporaries in power of subtle argument. It
is less known that in early life he adopted Berkeley's con-
ceptions of the ideal reality of the material world and
sense-symbolism ; although in interpretating and applying
the Principles of Causality and Substance he is more akin
to Collins or Spinoza than to feerkeley, in his celebrated
Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will, which appeared
in 1754. Long before he had argued for the depen-
dence of the data of sense for their reality upon percipient
mind, recognising too that they are not originated or
ultimately regulated by the human percipient, but by
God acting uniformly in Nature and in Man. 'The
world/ he finds to be ' an ideal one ; the law of creating,
and the succession of ideas in sense, is constant and regu-
lar. If we suppose that the world is mentaU in the sense sup-
posed, natural philosophy is not in the least affected. . . .
Place is only mental : w ithin and zvitkoui-arG mental concep-

* Yale College. He suggests recent withdrawal of Johnson from
a possible Puritan prejudice against the College and the Congregation-
Anglican theologians, which might alist communion, and his admission
have been strengthened by the to the Church of England.

22 editor's preface TO ALCIPHRON, ETC.

tions. When I say the material universe exists only in
mind, I mean that it is absolutely dependent on the concept
tionsj)f mind for its existence ; and does not exist as spirits
do, whose existence does not consist in, nor in dependence
on, the conceptions of other minds. . . .The infinitely exact and
precise Divine Idea, together with an answerable, perfectly
exact, precise and stable Will, with respect to corresponding
communications to created minds, is the substance of all
bodies.' The conception of the visible world, on which
the argument in Alciphron turns, based upon Berkeley's
discovery that the original data of sight are wholly dif-
ferent from those of touch, is also adopted by Edwards,
who argues that error is involved in all unenlightened
common assumptions regarding the material world.

Edwards does not name Berkeley. It does not appear
that they ever met or that they were in any way known
to one another; but the coincidence in their philosophi-
cal conceptions is interesting, like that between Berke-
ley and Collier \ At any rate, it is worthy of record that
Berkeley was preparing Alciphron in Rhode Island in the
neighbourhood of a disciple so sympathetic as Johnson,
and an ally so powerful as Jonathan Edwards.

^ See Appendix on Arthur Collier and Jonathan Edwards, in vol. Ill,

( The Author's design being to consider the Free-thinker
■"'tn the various lights of atheist, libertine, enthusiast, scorner,
critic, metaphysician, fatalist, and sceptic, it must not there-
fore be imagined that every one of these characters agrees
with every individual Free-thinker; no more being implied
than that each part agrees with some or other of the sect.
There may, possibly, be a reader who shall think the char-
acter of atheist agrees with none ; but though it hath been
often said there is no such thing as a speculative atheist,
yet we must allow there are several atheists who pretend to
speculation. This the Author knows to be true; and is
well assured that one of the most noted writers against
Christianity in our times declared he had found out a
demonstration against the being of a God '. And he doubts

f a God. Mr. Johnson,

' Anthony Collins is apparently
the writer referred to. The follow-
ing passage in Chandler's 'Life'
(P- 57) of Johnson is interesting :—
'While the Dean [Berkeley] re-
sided at Rhode Island, he com-
posed his Aldphron, or, Miitule
Philosophir, written by way of dia-
logue, in the mannerof Plato. The
design of it was to vindicate the
Christian religion, in answer to
the various objections and cavils
of atheists, libertines, enthusiasts,
scorn ers, critics, metaphysicians,
fatalists, and sceptics. In the
"Advertisement "prefixed to these
Dialogues, the author affirms that
he was well assured one of the
most noted writers against Chris-
lianity had declared he had found
I demonstration against the

] the Dean,
ng with him on the sub-
ject of the work then on hand,
was more particularly informed by
him,thBthehimself(the Dean) had
heard this strange declaration, wh i1 e
he was present in one of the deistical
clubs in London, in the pretended
character of a learner; that Collins
was the man who made it ; and
thatthe ''demonstration" was what
he afterwards published, in an
attempt to prove that every action
is the effect of fate and necessity,
in his book entitled A Philosophical
Inquiry conaniing Human Liberty.
And indeed, could the point be
once established, that everything is
produced by fate and necessity,
it would naturally follow that there

author's advertisement to

not, whoever will be at the pains to inform himself, by a
general conversation, as well as books, of the principles and
tenets of our modern Free-thinkers, will see too much cause
to be persuaded that nothing in the ensuing characters is
beyond the life.

[* As the author hath not confined himself to write against
books alone, so he thinks it necessary to make this declaration.
It must not, therefore, be thought that authors are misre-
presented, if every notion of Alciphron or Lysicles is not
found precisely in them. A gentleman in private conference,
may be supposed to speak plainer than others write, to
improve on their hints, and draw conclusions from their
principles.

Whatever they pretend, it is the author's opinion that all
those who write, either explicitly or by insinuation, against
the dignity, freedom, and immortality of the Human Soul,

is no God; or that He is a very
useless and insignificant Being,
which amounts to the same thing.'
Collins's Philosophical Inquiry
concerning Human Liberty vf^s first
published in 17 15. It is virtually
an argument against a finally
ethical conception of the uni-
verse. The second edition of this
book followed in 171 7, in which
year Dr. Samuel Clarke published
Remarks upon the * Philosophical
Inquiry concerning Human Liberty j*
as a reply to Collins. In 1729,
shortly after Clarke's death, a
reply to his Remarks, attributed
to Collins, appeared, in the form
of a Dissertation on Liberty and
Necessity: wherein the powers of ideas,
from their first entrance into the soul,
until their production of action, is
delineated ; with some Remarks upon
the late Reverend Dr, Clarke^ s reason-
ing on this point. By A. C, Esq.
The reply was unknown to Dugald
Stewart (Dissertation, art. Collins).
Collins died in 1729. A third edition
of his Philosophical Inquiry Sippeared

in 1735-

The way in which Berkeley here

and elsewhere refers to Collins is

difficult to reconcile with the affec-
tionate regard which Locke in his
old age expressed for the youthful
Essex squire, who was his devoted
friend.

The question raised by Collins
was the occasion of various tracts,
in defence and attack, about the
time of the publication oi Alciphron,
In particular John Jackson, Rector
of Rossington, and Dr. Gretton,
Rector of Springfield, Essex, re-
plied, in 1730, to the ^Dissertation
of A. C.,* published in the preced-
ing year. The controversy between
Clarke and Collins is alluded to in
(Corry's ?) Reflections upon Liberty
and Necessity, London, 1 761, where
it is said (p. 7) that the threatened
interposition of the magistrates
hindered Collins from defending
his Philosophical Inquiry. The
English literature of the contro-
versy about moral agency in man
and in the universe, in the former
part of last century, is copious
and curious; as also in the pre-
ceding century, when it engaged
Hobbes, Bramhall, and Cudworth.

* The bracketed paragraphs were
introduced in the second edition.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 25

may so far forth be justly said to unhinge the principles of
morality, and destroy the means of making men reasonably
virtuous. Much is to be apprehended from that quarter
against the interests of virtue. Whether the apprehension
of a certain admired writer ^, that the cause of virtue is likely
to suffer less from its witty antagonists than from its tender
nurses, who are apt to overlay it, and kill it with excess of
care and cherishing, and make it a mercenary thing, by
talking so much of its reward — whether, I say, this appre-
hension be so well founded, the reader must determine.]

As for the Treatise concerning Vision, why the Author
annexed it to the 'Minute Philosopher' will appear upon
perusal of the Fourth Dialogue*.

* [Essay on the Freedom of Wit the prominent figure,

and Humour, Part II. sect. 3.] — ' The Essay on Vision is not ap-

AuTHOR. The allusion is, of course, pended to the author*s third edition

to Shaftesbury. Cf. Alciphron, (1752).
Dial. Ill, in which Shaftesbury is

CONTENTS

THE FIRST DIALOGUE.

I. Introduction.

a. Aim and endeavours of free-thinkers.

3. Opposed by the clergy.

4. Liberty of free-thinking.

5. Farther account of the views of free-thinkers.

6. The progress of a free-thinker towards atheism.

7. Joint imposture of the priest and magistrate.

8. The free-thinker's method in making converts and discoveries.

9. The atheist alone free. His sense of natural good and evil.

10. Modern free-thinkers more properly named minute philosophers.

11. Minute philosophers, what sort of men, and how educated.

12. Their numbers, progress, and tenets.

13. Compared with other philosophers.

14. What things and notions to be esteemed natural.

15. Truth the same, notwithstanding diversity of opinions.

16. Rule and measure of moral truths.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE.

1. Vulgar error — ^That vice is hurtful.

2. The benefit of drunkenness, gaming, and whoring.

3. Prejudice against vice wearing off.

4. Its usefulness illustrated in the instances of Callicles and Telesilla.

5. The reasoning of Lysicles in behalf of vice examined.

6. Wrong to punish actions, when the doctrines whence they flow are

tolerated.

7. Hazardous experiment of the minute philosophers.

8. Their doctrine of circulation and revolution.

9. Their sense of a reformation.

10. Riches alone not the public weal.

11. Authority of minute philosophers : their prejudice against religion.

12. Effects of luxury : virtue, whether notional ?

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 27

13. Pleasure of sense.

14. What sort of pleasure most natural to man.

15. Dignity of human nature.

16. Pleasure mistaken.

17. Amusements, misery, and cowardice of minute philosophers.

18. Rakes cannot reckon.

19. Abilities and success of minute philosophers.

ao. Happy effects of the minute philosophy in particular instances.

21. Their free notions about government.

22. England the proper soil for minute philosophy.

23. The policy and address of its professors.

24. Merit of minute philosophers towards the public.

25. Their notions and character.

26. Their tendency towards popery and slavery.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE.

I. Alciphron*s account of honour.

a. Character and conduct of men of honour.

3. Sense of moral beauty.

4. The honestum or rd Ka\6v of the ancients.

5. Taste for moral beauty, whether a sure guide or rule.

6. Minute philosophers ravished with the abstract beauty of virtue.

7. Their virtue alone disinterested and heroic.

8. Beauty of sensible objects, what, and how perceived.

9. The idea of beauty explained by painting and architecture.

10. Beauty of the moral system, wherein it consists.

11. U supposeth a Providen ce.

12. Influence of rb /ca\6v and t^ vpiitov,

13. Enthusiasm of Cratylus compared with the sentiments of Aristotle.

14. Compared with the Stoical principles.

15. Minute philosophers, their talent for raillery and ridicule.

16. The wisdom of those who make virtue alone its own reward.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE.

/'■"• ^^. '

" I . Prejudices concerning a Deity.

2. Rules laid down by Alciphron to be observed in proving a God.

3. What sort of proof he expects.

4. Whence we collect the being of other thinking individuals.

5. The same method a fortiori proves the being of God.

6. Alciphron^s second thoughts on this point

7. God speaks to men.

8. How distance is perceived by sight.

9. The proper objects of sight at no distance.

{o. Lig;hts, shades, and polours \'ariously combined form a language.

28 CONTENTS TO

11. The signification of this language learned by experience.

12. God explaineth Himself to the eyes of men by the arbitrary use of

sensible signs.

13. The prejudice and two-fold aspect of a minute philosopher.

14. God present to mankind, informs, admonishes, and directs them in

a sensible manner.

15. Admirable nature and use of this Visual Language.

16. Minute philosophers content to admit a God in certain senses.

17. Opinion of some who hold that knowledge and wisdom are not pro-

perly in God.

18. Dangerous tendency of this notion.

19. Its original.

aa The sense of schoolmen upon it

ai. Scholastic use of the terms Analogy and Analogical explained :

analogical perfections of God misunderstood,
aa. God intelligent, wise, and good in the proper sense of the words.
33. Objection from moral evil considered.
24. Men argue from their own defects against a Deity.

35. Religious worship reasonable and expedient.

, THE FIFTH DIALOGUE.

^i. Minute philosophers join in the cry, and follow jthe scent of others.

2. Worship prescribed by the Christian religion suitabli^ to God and man.

3~ Power and influence of the Druids.

4. Excellency and usefulness of the Christian religion.

5. It ennobles mankind, and makes them happy.

6. Religion neither bigotry nor superstition.

7. Physicians and physic for the soul.

8. Character of the Clergy.

9. Natural religion and human reason not to be disparaged.

10. Tendency and use of the Gentile religion.

11. Good effects of Christianity.

I a. Englishmen compared with ancient Greeks and Romans.

13. The modern practice of duelling.

14. Character of the old Romans, how to be formed.

15. Genuine fruits of the Gospel.

16. Wars and factions not an effect of the Christian religion.

17. Civil rage and massacres in Greece and Rome.

18. Virtue of ancient Greeks.

19. Quarrels of polemical divines.

ao. Tyranny, usurpation, sophistry of ecclesiastics.

ai. The Universities censured.

aa. Divine writings of a certain modem critic.

as. Learning the effect of religion.

a4. Barbarism of the schools.

25. Restoration of learning and polite arts, to whom owing.

a6. Prejudice and ingratitude of minute philosophers.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER 29

27. Their pretensions and conduct inconsistent.

a8. Men and brutes compared with respect to religion.

ag, Christianity the only means to establish natural religion.

30. Free-thinker^ mistake their talents ; have a strong imagination.

31. Tithes and church-lands.

3a. Men distinguished from human creatures.

33. Distribution of mankind into birds, beasts, and fishes.

34. Plea for reason allowed, but unfairness taxed.

35. Freedom a blessing or a curse as it is used.

36. Priestcraft not the reigning evil.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE.

I. Points agreed.

a. Sundry pretences to revelation.

3. Uncertainty of tradition.

4. Object and ground of faith.

5. Some books disputed, others evidently spurious.

6. Style and composition of Holy Scripture.

7. Difficulties occurring therein.

8. Obscurity not always a defect.

9. Inspiration neither impossible nor absurd.

10. Objections from the form and matter of Divine revetation considered.

11. Infidelity an efiect of narrowness and prejudice.

12. Articles of Christian faith not unreasonable.

13. Guilt the natural parent of fear.

14. Things unknown, reduced to the standard of what men know.

15. Prejudices against the Incarnation of the Son of God.

16. Ignorance of the Divine (Economy, a source of difficulties.

17. Wisdom of God, foolishness to man.

18. Reason, no blind guide.

19. Usefulries^^of Divine revelation.
ao. I'rophecies, whence obscure.

ai. Eastern accounts of time older than the Mosaic.

aa. The humour of ^Egyptians, Ass3rrians, Chaldeans, and other nations

extending their antiquity beyond truth accounted for.
a3. Reasons confirming the Mosaic account.
a4. Profane historians inconsistent.
as. Celeus, Porphyry, and Julian.
a6. The testimony of Josephus considered.
a7. Attestation of Jews and Gentiles to Christianity.
a8. Forgeries and heresies.
ap. Judgment and attention of minute philosophers.

30. Faith and miracles.

31. Probable arguments a sufficient ground of faith.

3a. The Christian religion able to stand the test of rational Inquiry.

30 CONTENTS TO ALCIPHRON

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE.

1. Christian faith impossible.

2. Words stand for ideas.

3. No knowledge or faith without ideas.

4. Grace, no idea of it.

[5. Abstract ideas what and how made.

6. Abstract general ideas impossible.

7. In what sense there may be general ideas. 1 '

5. [8.] Suggesting ideas not the only use of words.

6. [9.] Force as difficult to form an idea of as grace.

7. [10.] Notwithstanding which useful propositions may be formed con-

cerning it.

8. [11.] Belief of the Trinity and other mysteries not absurd.

9. [la.] Mistakes about faith an occasion of profane raillery.
10. [13-] Faith, its true nature and effects.

n. [14.1 Illustrated by science.

la. [15.] By arithmetic in particular.

13. [16.1 Sciences conversant about signs.

14. [17.] The true end of speech, reason, science, and faith.

15. [18.] Metaphysical objections as strong against human sciences as

articles of Faith.

16.

18.
19.
ao.

19.] No religion, because no human liberty.

ao.] Farther proof against human liberty.

a I.] Fatalism a consequence of erroneous suppositions.

aa. j Man an accountable agent.

a3.] Inconsistency, singularity, and credulity of minute philosophers.

ai. [a4.] Untrodden paths and new light of the minute philosophers,
aa [35.] Sophistry of the minute philosophers.

33. [a6.] Minute philosophers ambiguous, enigmatical, unfathomable.

34. [37.] Scepticism of the minute philosophers.

35. [a8.] How a sceptic ought to behave.

a6. [39.] Minute philosophers why difficult to convince.

37. 1,30.] Thinking not the epidemical evil of these times.

a8. [31.] Infidelity not an effect of reason or thought — its true motives

assigned.
39. [3a.] Variety of opinions about religion, effects thereof!

30. 1 33.] Method for proceeding with minute philosophers.

31. [34.] Want of thought and want of education defects of the present age.

* For explanation of bracketed nambers see p. 333 below.

ALCIPHRON

THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

THE FIRST DIALOGUE'.

I. Introduction. 2. Aim and endeavours of free-thinkers. 3. Opposed
by the clergy. 4, Liberty of free-thinking. 5. Farther account of
the views of free-thinkers. 6. The progress of a free-thinker towards
atheism. 7. Joint imposture of the priest and magistrate. 8. The
free-thinker's method in making converts and discoveries. 9. The
atheist alone free. His sense of natural good and evil. 10. Modern
free-thinkers more properly named miViM/^ ^^f7o5q^/r^r5. 11. Minute
philosophers, what sort of men, and how educated. 13. Their
numbers, progress, and tenets. 13. Compared with other philo-
sophers. 14. What things and notions to be esteemed natural.
15. Truth the same, notwithstanding diversity of opinion. 16. Rule
and measure of moral truths.

I. I FLATTERED mysclf, Thcages, that before this time
I might have been able to have sent you an agreeable
account of the success of the affair which brought me into
this remote corner of the country. But, instead of this,
I should now give you the detail of its miscarriage, if I
did not rather choose to entertain you with some amusing

* In this Dialogue we are in- another. The scenes supposed are

troduced to the interlocutors and in Rhode Island, around White-

to the sect of Free-thinkers, or hall, Berkeley's American home

Minute Philosophers, personified, where he wrote Alciphron^ and

in one aspect, by Alciphron, i. e. where he was informed of the

Strong-Mind — sarcastically, and by *■ miscarriage' of his Bermuda enter-

Lysicles, the man of pleasure, in prise.

32 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

incidents^ which have helped to make me easy under a
circumstance I could neither obviate nor foresee. Events
are not in our power ; but it always is, to make a good use
even of the very worst. And, I must needs own, the
course and event of this affair gave opportunity for re-
flexions that make me some amends for a great loss of
time, pains, and expense. A life of action, which takes its
issues from the counsels, passions, and views of other men,
if it doth not draw a man to imitate, will at least teach him
to observe. And a mind at liberty to reflect on its owh
observations, if it produce nothing useful to the world,
seldom fails of entertainment to itself. For several months
past, I have enjoyed such liberty and leisure in this distant
retreat, far beyond the verge of that great whirlpool of
business, faction, and pleasure, which is called the world.
And a retreat in itself agreeable, after a long scene of
trouble and disquiet, was made much more so by the con-
versation and good qualities of my host, Euphranor, who
unites in his own person the philosopher and the farmer,
two characters not so inconsistent in nature as by custom
they seem to be.

Euphranor, from the time he left the university, hath
lived in this small town, where he is possessed of a con-
venient house with a hundred acres of land adjoining to
it; which, being improved by his own labour, yield him
a plentiful subsistence. He hath a good collection, chiefly
of^ old books, left him by a clergyman his uncle, under
whose care he was brought up. And the business of his
farm doth not hinder him from making good use of it.
He hath read much, and thought more; his health and
strength of body enabling him the better to bear fatigue of
mind. He is of opinion that he could not carry on his
studies with more advantage in the closet than the field,
where his mind is seldom idle while he prunes the trees,
follows the plough, or looks after his flocks.

In the house of this honest friend I became acquainted
with Crito, a neighbouring gentleman of distinguished
merit and estate, who lives in great friendship with
Euphranor.

Last summer, Crito, whose parish-church is in our town,
dining on a Sunday at Euphranor's, I happened to inquire
afler his guests, whom we had seen at church with him the

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 33

Sunday before. They are both well, said Crito, but, having
once occasionally conformed, to see what sort of assembly
our parish could afford, they had no further curiosity to
gratify at church, and so chose to stay at home. How,
said Euphranor, are they then dissenters? No, replied
Crilo, they are free-thinkers. Euphranor, who had never
met with any of this species or sect of men, and but little
of their writings, shewed a great desire to know their prin-
ciples or system. That is more, said Crito, than I will
undertake to tell you. Their writers are of different
opinions. Some go farther, and explain themselves more^
freely than others. But the current general notions of the
sect are best learned from conversation with those who
profess themselves of it. Your curiosity may now be ■
satisfied, if you and Dion' would spend a week at my
house with these gentlemen, who seem very ready to
declare and propagate their opinions. Alciphron is above
forty, and no stranger either to men or books. I knew
him first at the Temple, which, upon an estate's falling to
him, he quitted, to travel through the polite parts of
Europe. Since his return he hath lived in the amuse-
ments of the town, which, being grown stale and tasteless
to his palate, have flung him into a sort of splenetic
indolence. The young gentleman, Lysicles, is a near
kinsman of mine, one of lively parts and a general insight
into letters, who, after having passed the forms of educa-
tion, and seen a little of the world, fell into an intimacy
with men of pleasure and free-thinkers, I am afraid much
to the damage of his constitution and his fortune. But
what I most regret is the corruption of his mind, by a set
of pernicious principles, which, having been observed to
survive the passions of youth, forestall even the remote
hopes of amendment. They are both men of fashion, and
would be agreeable enough, if they did not fancy them-
selves free-thinkers. But this, to speak the truth, has given
them a ce_rtain air and manner, which a little too visibly
declarethey think themselves wiser than the rest of the
«^rlH. 1 should therefore be not at all displeased if my

^^ Dion personifies Berkeley.

_. K LtUtr to Dion, occasioned by his

leak cailtd 'MdphroH, or Ihe MinuU

Philosop/ier: By the Author of
the ' Fable of the Bees,' (London,

34 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

guests met with their match, where they least expected
it — in a country farmer. I shall not, replied Euphranor,
pretend to any more than barely to inform myself of their
principles and opinions. For this end I propose to-morrow
to set a week's task to my labourers, and accept your in-
vitation, if Dion thinks good. To which I gave consent.
Meanwhile, said Crito, I shall prepare my guests, and let
them know that an honest neighbour hath a mind to dis-
course with them on the subject of their free- thinking.
And, if I am not much mistaken, they will please them-
selves with the prospect of leaving a convert behind them,
even in a country village. "^

Next morning Euphranor rose early, and spent the fore-
noon in ordering his affairs. After dinner we took our walk
to Crito's, which lay through half a dozen pleasant fields
planted round with plane-treeS; that are very common in
this part of the country. We walked under the delicious
shade of these trees for about an hour before we came to
Crito's house, which stands in the middle of a small park,
beautified with two fine groves of oak and walnut, and
a winding stream of sweet and clear water \ We met a
servant at the door with a small basket of fruit, which he
was carrying into a grove, where he said his master was
with the two strangers. We found them all three sitting
under a shade. And after the usual forms at first meeting,
Euphranor and I sat down by them.

Our conversation began upon the beauty of this rural
scene, the fine season of the year, and some late improve-
ments which had been made in the adjacent country by
new methods of agriculture. Whence Alciphron took
occasion to observe, that the most valuable improvements
came latest. I should have small temptation, said he, to
live where men have neither polished manners, nor im-
proved minds, though the face of the country were ever so
well improved. But I have long observed that there is
a gradual progress in human affairs. The first care of
mankind is to supply the cravings of nature ; in the next
place they study the conveniences and comforts of life.
But the subduing prejudices, and acquiring true knowledge,
that Herculean labour, is the last; being what demands

^ This is a picture of a scene near Whitehall.

THE PIRST DIALOGUE

I the most perfect abilities, and to which all other advantages

' are preparative. Right, said Euphranor, Alciphron hath

touched our true defect. It was always my opinion that

as soon as we had provided subsistence for the body our

next care should be to improve the mind. But the desire^

of wealth steps between, and engrosseth

thoughts.

2. Alciphron. Thought is that which we are told dis-
tinguisheth man from beast ; and freedom of thought makes
as great a difference between man and man. It is to the
noble assertors of this privilege and perfection of human
kind, the free-thinkers I mean, who have sprung up and
multiplied of late years ', that we are indebted for all those
important discoveries, that ocean of light, which hath broke
in and made its way, in spite of slavery and superstition,

Euphranor, who is a sincere enemy to both, testified a
great esteem for those worthies who had preserved their
country from being ruined by them, having spread so much
light and knowledge over the land. He added, that he-
liked the name and character of a free-thinker ; but, in his
sense of the word, every honest inquirer after truth in any
age or country was entitled to it. He therefore desired to
know what this sect was that Alciphron had spoken of as
newly sprung up ; what were their tenets ; what were their
discoveries; and wherein they employed themselves for
the benefit of mankind. Of all which, he should think
himself obliged, if Alciphron would inform him.

That I shall very easily, replied Alciphron, for I profess
myself one of the number, and my most intimate friends
are some of the most considerable among them.

And, perceiving that Euphranor heard him with respect,

' See Collins' Discourse of Ftes-
UuHitHg} oaasioHcd by llie rise
tuat poaitk of a sect called Free-
duHktra I.1713). The frce-tli inkers
arc called ' minute philosophers'
by Berkeley, because fhey leave
oat of their philosophy all that
transcends the deu of the senses,
and are therefore tkithiess to truth,
because faithless to the spiritual
foundation of the whole. Their
philosopliy is trenled by him as ol'

lhL> narrow sort which, according
to Bacon, ' inchneth Man's mind to
Atheism, while deeper philosophy
bringeth men's minds about to re-
ligion ; for while the mind of man
lookelh upon second causes scatter-

and go no further, but when it be-
hold etb the chain of them con-
federate, and linked together, it
must needs fly to Providence and
Deity.'

D 2

36 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

he proceeded very fluently. — You must know, said he, that
the mind of man may be fitly compared to a piece of land.
What stubbing, ploughing, digging, and harrowing are to
the one, that thinking, reflecting, examining are to the
other. Each hath its proper culture ; and, as land that
is suffered to lie waste and wild for a long tract of time will
be overspread with brush-wood, brambles, thorns, and such
/vegetables which have neither use nor beauty; even so
I there will not fail to sprout up in a neglected uncultivated
mind a great number of prejudices and absurd opinions,
which owe their origin partly to the soil itself, the passions
and imperfections of the mind of man, and partly to those
seeds which chance to be scattered in it by every wind of
doctrine, which the cunning of statesmen, the singularity
of pedants, the superstition of fools, or the imposture of
priests shall raise. Represent to yourself the mind of
man, or human nature in general, that for so many ages
had lain obnoxious to the frauds of designing and the
follies of weak men; how it must be overrun with pre-
judices and errors, what firm and deep roots they must
have taken, and consequently how difficult a task it must
be to extirpate them ! And yet this work, no less difficult
than glorious, is the employment of the modern free-
thinkers. Alciphron having said this made a pause, and
looked round on the company.

Truly, said I, a very laudable undertaking !

We think, said Euphranor, that it is praiseworthy to
clear and subdue the earth, to tame brute animals, to
fashion the outsides of men, provide sustenance for their
bodies, and cure their maladies. But what is all this in
comparison of that most excellent and useful undertaking —
to free mankind from their errors, and to improve and
adorn their minds. For things of less merit towards the
world altars have been raised, and temples built, in ancient
times.

Too many in our days, replied Alciphron^ are such fools

jas not to know their best benefactors from their worst

renemies. They have a blind respect for those who enslave

them, and look upon their deliverers as a dangerous sort of

men thatwould undermine received principles and opinions.

Euphranor. It were a great pity such worthy ingenious
men should meet with any discouragement. For my part,

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

I should think a man who spent his time in such a painful
impartial search after truth a better friend to mankind
than the greatest statesman or hero ; the advantage of
whose labours is confined to a little part of the world and a
short space of time, whereas a ray of truth may enlighten
the whole world and extend to future ages.

Ale. It will be some time I fear before the common herd
think as you do. But the better sort, the men of parts and
polite education, pay a due regard to the patrons of light
and truth.

3. Euph. The clergy, no doubt, are on all occasions
ready to forward and applaud your worthy endeavours.

Upon hearing this Lysicles could hardly refrain from
laughing. And Alciphron with an air of pity told Euph-
ranor that he perceived he was unacquainted with the real
character of those men. For, saith he, you must know
that of all men living they are our greatest enemies. If
it were possible, they would extinguish the very light of 1
nature, turn the world into a dungeon, and keep mankind
for ever in chains and darkness. '

Euph. 1 never imagined anything like this of our
Protestant clergy, particularly those of the Established
Church, whom, if I may be allowed to judge by what I
have seen of them and their writings, 1 should have
thought lovers of learning and useful knowledge.

Ale, Take my word for it, priests of all religions are the
same : wherever there are priests there will be priestcraft ;
■and wherever there is priestcraft there will he a persecuting
spirit, which they never fail to exert to the utmost of their
power against all those who have the courage to think for
themselves, and will not submit to be hoodwinked and
manacled by their reverend leaders. Those great masters
of pedantry and jargon have coined several systems, which
are all equally true, and of equal importance to the world.
The contending sects are each alike fond of their own,
and alike prone to discharge their fury upon all who
dissent from them. Cruelty and ambition being the
darling vices of priests and churchmen all the world
over, they endeavour in all countries to get an ascendant
over the rest of mankind ; and the magistrate, having
a joint interest with the priest in subduing, amusing, and

38 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

scaring the people, too often lends a hand to the hierarchy,
who never think their authority and possessions secure,
so long as those who differ from them in opinion are
allowed to partake even in the common rights belonging
to their birth or species. To represent the matter in
a true light, figure to yourselves a monster or spectre
made up of superstition and enthusiasm, the joint issue
of statecraft and priestcraft, rattling chains in one hand,
and with the other brandishing a flaming sword over the
land, and menacing destruction to all who shall dare to
follow the dictates of Reason and Common Sense. Do
but consider this, and then say if there was not danger
as well as difficulty in our undertaking. Yet, such is
the generous ardour that truth inspires, our free-thinkers
are neither overcome by the one nor daunted by the other.
In spite of both we have already made so many proselytes
among the better sort, and their numbers increase so fast,
that we hope we shall be able to carry all before us, beat)
down the bulwarks of all tyranny, secular or ecclesiastical, j
break the fetters and chains of our countrymen, and restore
the original inherent rights, liberties, and prerogatives of
mankind.

Euphranor heard this discourse with his mouth open,
and his eyes fixed upon Alctphron, who, having uttered
it with no small emotion, stopped to draw breath and
recover himself; but, finding that nobody made answer,
he resumed the thread of his discourse, and, turning to
Euphranor, spoke in a lower note what follows: — The
more innocent and honest a man is, the more liable is
he to be imposed on by the specious pretences of other
men. You have probably met with certain writings of
our divines that treat of grace, virtue, goodness, and such
matters, fit to amuse and deceive a simple, honest mind.
But, believe me when I tell you they are all at bottom
(however they may gild their designs) united by one
common principle in the same interest. I will not deny
there may be here and there a poor half-witted man that
means no mischief ; but this I will be bold to say, that all
the men of sense among them are true at bottom to these
three pursuits of ambition, avarice, and revenge.

4. While Alciphron was speaking, a servant came to tell

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

him and Lysicles that some men who were going to London
waited to receive their orders. Whereupon they both
rose up, and went towards the house. They were no
sooner gone but Euphranor, addressing himself to Crito,
said, he believed that poor gentleman had been a great
sufferer for his free-thinking; for that he seemed to ex-
press himself with the passion and resentment natural to
men who have received very bad usage.

1 believe no such thing, answered Crito, but have often
observed those of his sect run into two faults of conversa-
tion, declaiming and bantering, just as the tragic or the
comic humour prevails. Sometimes they work themselves
into high passions, and are frightened at spectres of their
own raising. In those fits every country curate passes
for an inquisitor. At other times they affect a sly facetious
manner, making use of hints and allusions, expressing
little, insinuating much, and upon the whole seeming to
divert themselves with the subject and their adversaries.
But, if you would know their opinions, you must make
them speak out and keep close to the point. Persecution
for free-thinking is a topic they are apt to enlarge on,
though without any just cause, every one being at full
liberty to think what he pleases, there being no such thing
in England that I know as persecution for opinion,
sentiment, or thought. But in every country, I suppose,
some care is taken to restrain petqlant speech, and, what-
ever men's inward thoughts may be, to discourage an
outward contempt of what the public esteemeth sacred.
Whether this care in England hath of late been so ex-
cessive as to distress the subject of this once free and easy
government, whether the free-thinkers can truly complain
of any hardship upon the score of conscience or opinion,
you will better be able to judge, when you hear from
themselves an account of the numbers, progress, and
notions of their sect ; which I doubt not they will com-
municate fully and freely, provided nobody present seem
shocked or offended : for in that case it is possible good
manners may put them upon some reserve.

I ! said Enphraiior, I am never angry with any man
ifor his opinion ; whether he be Jew, Turk, or Idolator, he
Rmay speak his mind freely to me without fear of offending.

40 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

I should even be glad to hear what he hath to say,
provided he saith it in an ingenuous candid manner.
Whoever digs in the mine of truth I look on as my
fellow-labourer ; but if, while I am taking true pains, he
diverts himself with teasing me, and flinging dust in mine
eyes, I shall soon be tired of him.

5. In the meantime, Alciphron and Lysicles, having
despatched what they went about, returned to us. Lysicles
sat down where he had been before. But Alciphron stood
over against us, with his arms folded across, and his head
reclined on the left shoulder, in the posture of a man
meditating. We sat silent, not to disturb his thoughts;
and after two or three minutes he uttered these words —
Oh truth ! oh liberty ! After which he remained musing
as before.

Upon this Euphranor took the freedom to interrupt him.
Alciphron, said he, it is not fair to spend your time in
soliloquies. The conversation of learned and knowing
men is rarely to be met with in this corner, and the
opportunity you have put into my hands I value too much
not to make the best use of it.

Ale. Are you then in earnest a votary of truth, and is it
possible you should bear the liberty of a fair inquiry ?

Euph. It is what I desire of all things.

Ale. What ! upon every subject ? upon the notions you
first sucked in with your milk, and which have been
ever since nursed by parents, pastors, tutors, religious
assemblies, books of devotion, and such methods of pre-
possessing men's minds ?

Euph. I love information upon all subjects that come in
my way, and especially upon those that are most important.

Ale. If then you are in earnest, hold fair and stand
firm, while I probe your prejudices and extirpate your
principles.

Dum veteres avias tibi de pulmone revello.

Having said thus, Aleiphron knit his brows and made
a short pause, after which he proceeded in the following
manner: —

If we are at the pains to dive and penetrate into the
bottom of things, and analyse opinions into their first

THE FIR5T DIALOGUE

principles, we shall find that those opinions which are
thought of greatest consequence have the slightest original,
being derived either from the casuai customs of the country
where we live, or from eariy. Instruction instilled into
our tender minds, before we are able to discern between
riglit and wrong, true and false. The vulgar (by whom
I understand all those who do not make a free use of their
reason) are apt to take these prejudices for things sacred
and unquestionable; believing them to be imprinted on
the hearts of men by God Himself, or conveyed by revela-
tion from heaven, or to carry with them so great light and 1
evidence as must force an assent without any inquiry or \
examination. Thus the shallow vulgar have their heads
fijmished with sundry conceits, principles, and doctrines —
religious, moral, and political — all which they maintain
with a zeal proportionable to their want of reason. On
the other hand, those who duly employ their faculties in the
search of truth, take especial care to weed out of their
minds, and extirpate all such notions or prejudices as were
planted in them before they arrived at the free and entire
use of reason. This difficult task hath been successfully
performed b^ our modern free-thinkers, who have not only
dissected with great sagacity the received systems, and
traced every established prejudice to the fountain-head,
the true and genuine motives of assent : but also, having
been able to embrace in one comprehensive view the several
parts and ages of the world, they observed a wonderful
variety of customs and rites, of institutions religious and
civil, of notions and opinions very unlike, and even con-
trary one to another^a certain sign they cannot all be
true. And yet they are all maintained by their several
partisans with the same positive air and warm zeal ; and, if
examined, will be found to bottom on one and the same
foundation, the strength of prejudice. By the help of these
remarks and discoveries, they have broke through the
bands of popular custom, and, having freed themselves'
from imposture, do now generously lend a hand to their
fellow- subjects, to lead them into the same paths of light
and liberty. Thus, gentlemen, 1 have given you a summary
account of the views and endeavours of those men who are
called free-thinkers. If, in the course of what I have said,
r shall say hereafter, there be some things contrary to

42 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

your preconceived opinions, and therefore shocking and
disagreeable, you will pardon the freedom and plainness
of a philosopher, and consider that, whatever displeasure
I give you of that kind, I do it in strict regard to truth,
and obedience to your own commands. I am very sensible
that eyes long kept in the dark cannot bear a sudden view
of noonday light, but must be brought to it by degrees.
It is for this reason the ingenious gentlemen of our pro-
fession are accustomed to proceed gradually, beginning
with those prejudices to which men have the least attach-
ment, and thence proceeding to undermine the rest by
slow and insensible degrees, till they have demolished the
whole fabric of human folly and superstition. But the
little time I can propose to spend here obligeth me to take
a shorter course, and be more direct and plain than
possibly may be thought to suit with prudence and good
manners.

Upon this, we assured him, he was at full liberty to
speak his mind of things, persons, and opinions, without
the least reserve.

It is a liberty, replied Alciphron^ that we free-thinkers
are equally willing to give and take. We love to call
things by their right names, and cannot endure that truth
should suffer through complaisance. Let us, therefore,
lay it down for a preliminary, that no offence be taken
at anything; whatsoever shall be said on either side. To
which we all agreed.

6. In order then, said Alciphron^ to find out the truth,
we will suppose that I am bred up, for instance, in the
Church of England. When I come to maturity of judg-
ment, and reflect on the particular worship and opinions
of this Church, I do not remember when or by what means
they first took possession of my mind, but there I find
them from time immemorial. Then, casting an eye on
the education of children, from whence I can make a
judgment of my own, I observe they are instructed in
religious matters before they can reason about them ; and,
consequently, that all such instruction is nothing else but
I filling the tender mind of a child with prejudices. I do,
therefore, reject all those religious notions, which I consider
as the other follies of my childhood. I am confirmed in

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

this way of thinking when I look abroad into the world,
where I observe Papists, and several sects of Dissenters ;
which do all agree in a general profession of belief in
Christ, but differ vastly one from another in the particulars
of faith and worship. I then enlarge my views so as to
lake in Jews and Mahoinetans; between whom and the
Christians I perceive, indeed, some small agreement in
the belief of one God; but then they have each their
distinct laws and revelations, for which they express the
same regard. But, extending my view still further to
heathenish and idolatrous nations, I discover an endless
variety, not only in particular opinions and modes of
worship, but even in the very notion of a Deity, wherein
they widely differ one from another, and from all the
forementioned sects. Upon the whole, instead of truth
simple and uniform, 1 perceive nothing but discord, oppo-
sition, and wild pretensions, all springing from the same
source, to wit, the prejudice of education. From such
reasonings and reflexions as these, thinking men have
concluded that all religions are alike false and fabulous.
One is a Christian, another a Jew, a third a Mahometan,
a fourth an idolatrous Gentile, but all from one and the
same reason— because they happen to be bred up each
in his respective sect. In the same manner, therefore,
as each of these contending parties condemns the rest, so
an" unprejudiced stander-by will condemn and reject them
altogether, observing, that they all draw their origin from
the same fallacious principle, and are carried on by the
same artifice, to answer the same ends of the priest and
the magistrate.

7. Eupk. You hold then that the magistrate concurs
with the priest in imposing on the people?

Ale. 1 do ; and so must every one who considers things
in a true light. For, you must know the magistrate s
principal aim is to keep the people under him in awe.
Now, the public eye restrains men from open offences
against the laws and government. But, to prevent secret
transgressions, a magistrate finds it expedient that men
should believe there is an eye of Providence watching over
their private actions and designs. And, to intimidate those
who might otherwise be drawn into crimes by the prospect

44 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

of pleasure and profit, he gives them to understand that
whoever escapes punishment in this life will be sure to
find it in the next ; and that so heavy and lasting as
infinitely to over-balance the pleasure and profit accruing
from his crimes. Hence, the belief of a God, the im-
mortality of the soul, and a future state of rewards and
punishments have been esteemed useful engines of govern-
ment. And, to the end that these notional airy doctrines
might make a sensible impression, and be retained on the
minds of men, skilful rulers have, in several of the civilized
nations of the earth, devised temples, sacrifices, churches,
rites, ceremonies, habits, music, prayer, preaching, and the
like spiritual trumpery, whereby the priest maketh temporal
gains, and the magistrate findeth his account in frighten-
ing and subduing the people. This is the original of the
combination between Church and State, of religion by law
established, of rights, immunities, and incomes of priests
all over the world : there being no government but would
have you fear God, that you may honour the king or civil
power. And you will ever observe that politic princes
keep up a good understanding with their clergy, to the
end that they in return, by inculcating religion and loyalty
into the minds of the people, may render them tame,
timorous, and slavish.

Crito and I heard this discourse of Alciphron with the
utmost attention, though without any appearance of sur-
prise, there being, indeed, nothing in it to us new or
unexpected. But Euphranor, who had never before been
present at such conversation, could not help shewing some
astonishment; which Lysicks observing, asked him with
a lively air, how he liked Alciphron's lecture. It is, said
he, the first I believe that you ever heard of the kind, and
requireth a strong stomach to digest it.

Euph. I will own to you that my digestion is none of the
quickest ; but it hath sometimes, by degrees, been able to
master things which at first appeared indigestible. At
present I admire the free spirit and eloquence of Alci-
phron; but, to speak the truth, I am rather astonished than
convinced of the truth of his opinions. How ! (said he,
turning to Alciphron) is it then possible you should not
believe the being of a God ?

Ale, To be plain with you, I do not.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

8. But this is what I foresaw — a flood of Hght let in at
once upon the mind being apt to dazzle and disorder,
rather than enlighten it. Was I not pinched in time, the
regular way would be to have begun with the circum-
stantials of religion; next to have attacked the mysteries
of Christianity; after that proceeded to the practical doc-
trines ; and in the last place to have extirpated that which
of all other religious prejudices, being the !Trst taught and
basis of the rest, hath taken the deepest root in our minds,
I mean, the belief of a God. i do not wonder it sticks with
you, having known several very ingenious men who found
It difficult to free themselves from this prejudice.

Kuph. All men have not the same alacrity and vigour in
thinking ; for my own part, I find it a hard" matter to keep
pace with you.

Ale. To help you, I will go a little way back, and resume
the thread of my reasoning, First, I must acquaint you
that, having applied my mind to contemplate the idea of
Truth, I discovered it to be of a stable, permanent, and
uniform nature ; not various and changeable, like modes
or "fashions, and things depending on fancy. In the next
place, having observed several sects and subdivisions of
sects espousing very different and contrary opinions, and
yet all professing Christianity, 1 rejected those points
wherein they differed, retaining only that which was agreed
to by all, and so became a LatiliuUnarian. Having after-
wards, upon a more enlarged view of things, perceived
that Christians, Jews, and Mahometans had each their
diflferent systems of faith, agreeing only in the behef of
one God, I became a Deisl. Lastly, extending my view
to all the other various nations which inhabit this globe,
and finding they agreed in no one point of faith, but
difTered one from another, as well as from the fore-
mentioned sects, even in the notion of a God, in which
there is as great-diversity as in the methods of worship,
1 thereupon became an Atheist: it being my opinion that
a man of courage and sense should follow his ar^ment i
wherever it leads him, and that nothing is more ridiculous
than to be a free-thinker by halves. I approve the man^
who makes thorough work, and, not content with lopping
off the branches, extirpates the very root from which they

46 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

9. Atheism therefore, that bugbear of women and fools,
is the very top and perfection of free-thinking *. It is the
grand arcanum to which a true genius naturSly riseth, by
a certain climax or gradation of thought, and without which
he can never possess his soul in absolute liberty and re-
pose. For your thorough conviction in this main article,
do but examine the notion of a God with the same freedom
that you would other prejudices. Trace it to the fountain-
\ head, and you shall not nnd that you had it by any of your
senses, the only true means of discovering what is real and
substantial in nature : you will find it lyin^ amongst other
old lumber in some obscure corner of the imagination, the
proper receptacle of visions, fancies, and prejudices of all
kinds ; and if you are more attached to this than the rest,
it is only because it is the oldest. This is all, take my
word for it, and not mine only but that of many more the
most ingenious men of the age, who, I can assure you,
think as I do on the subject of a Deity. Though some
of them hold it proper to proceed with more reserve in
declaring to the world their opinion in this particular than
in most others. And, it must be owned, there are still too
many in England who retain a foolish prejudice against
the name of atheist. But it lessens every day among the
better sort ; and when it is quite worn out, our free-thinkers
may then (and not till then) be said to have given the finish*
ing stroke to religion; it being evident that, so long as
the existence of God is believed, religion must subsist in
some shape or other. But the root being once plucked up,
the scions which shoot from it will of course wither and
decay. Such are all those whimsical notions of conscience,
duty, principle, and the like, which fill a man's head with
scruples, awe him with fears, and make him a more
thorough slave than the horse he rides. A man had better
a thousand times be hunted by bailiffs or messengers than
haunted by these spectres, which embarrass and embitter
all his pleasures, creating the most real and sore ser-
vitude upon earth. But the free-thinker, with a vigorous
flight of thought, breaks through those airy springes, and
asserts his original independency. Others indeed may talk,

' Throughout it is assumed by sciously or unconsciously, the goal
Berkeley that Atheism is, con- of the free-thinking sect.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 47

and write, and fight about liberty, and make an outward /^
pretence to it ; ^i^lhe free -thinker alon^ Js tru l y fr ae.

Alciphron having ended this discourse with an air of
triumph, Euphranor spoke to him in the following
manner : —

You make clear work. The gentlemen of your pro-
fession are, it seems, admirable weeders. You have rooted
up a world of notions : I should be glad to see what fine
things you have planted in their stead,

Ale. Have patience, good Euphranor. ! wil! shew you,
in the first place, that whatever was sound and good we
leave untouched, and encourage it to grow in the mind
of man. And, secondly, I will shew you what excellent
things we have planted in it. You must know then that,
pursuing our close and severe scrutiny, we do at last arrive
at something solid and real, in which all mankind agree,
to wit, the appetites, passions, and senses : these are
founded in nature, are real, have real objects, and are
attended with real and substantial pleasures ; food, drink,
sleep, and the like animal enjoyments being what all men
like and love. And, if we extend our view to other kinds
of animals, we shall find them all agree in this, that they
have certain natural appetites and senses, in the gratify-
ing and satisfying of which they are constantly employed.
Now, these real natural good things, which include nothing
of notion or fancy, we arc so far from destroying, that we
do all we can to cherish and improve them. According to
us, every wise man looks upon himself, or his own bodily I
existence in this present world, as the centre and ultimate/
end of all his actions and regards. He considers hisi
apgetitea as natural-guides, directing to his proper good,
his passions and senses as the natural true means of enjoy-
ing this good. Hence, he endeavours to keep his appetites
in nigh relish, his passions and senses strong and lively, and
to provide the greatest quantity and variety of real objects
suited to them, which he studieth to enjoy by all possible
means, and in the highest perfection imaginable. And the
man who can do this without restraint, remorse, or fear is
as happy as any other animal whatsoever, or as his nature
is capable of being. Thus I have given you a succinct
view of the principles, discoveries, and tenets of the select
I spirits of this enlightened age. 1

48 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

lo. Crito remarked, that Alciphron had spoken his mind
with great clearness.

Yes, replied Euphranor, we are obliged to the gentleman
for letting us at once into the tenets of his sect. But, if i
may be allowed to speak my mind, Alciphron, though
compliance with my own request, hath given me no smal
uneasiness.

You need, said Alciphron^ make no apology for speakin
freely what you think to one who professeth himself a free
thinker. I should be sorry to make one, whom I meant t
oblige, uneasy. Pray let me know wherein I have offended

I am half ashamed, replied Euphranor, to own that I
who am no great genius, have a weakness incidental t
little ones. I would say that I have favourite opinions-
which you represent to be errors and prejudices. Fo
instance, the Immortality of the Soul is a notion I am fon
of, as what supports the mind with a very pleasing pros —
pect. And, if it be an error, I should perhaps be of TuUy'i^
mind, who in that case professed he should be sorry to
know the truth, acknowledging no sort of obligation to
certain philosophers in his days, who taught the soul of
man was mortal \ They were, it seems, predecessors to
those who are now called free-thinkers ; which name bein^
too general and indefinite, inasmuch as it comprehends all
those who think for themselves, whether they agree in
opinion with these gentlemen or no — it should not seem
amiss to assign them a specific appellation or peculiar name,
whereby to distinguish them from other philosophers, at
least in our present conference. For I cannot bear to
argue against free-thinking and free-thinkers^.

Ale, In the eyes of a wise man words are of small
moment. We do not think truth attached to a name.

Euph, If you please then, to avoid confusion, let us call
your sect by the same name that Tully (who understood
the force of language) bestowed upon them.

Ale. With all my heart. Pray what may that name be ?

Euph. Why, he calls them minute philosophers^.

Right, said CritOj the modem free-thinkers are the very

' Cicero, TuscuL Quasi. I. § 24. thinkers, and their opponents are

^ Reh'gious thinking, according the rationalists,
to Euphranor, is free-thinking; free- ' Cicero iDeFimbuSyh §18; D^

thinkers are really the narrow SeHedute^%i6] DeDivinaiioi9€,\,k^^

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 49

same with those Cicero called minute philosophers ; which
name admirably suits them, they being a sort of sect which
diminish all the most valuable things, the thoughts, views,
and hopes of men ; all the knowledge, notions, and theories
of the mind they reduce to sense ; human nature they con-
tract and degrade to the narrow low standard of animal
life, and assign us only a small pittance of time instead of
immortality.

Alciphron very gravely remarked that the gentlemen of
his sect had done no injury to man, and that, if he be
a little, short-lived, contemptible animal, it was not their
saying it made him so : and they were no more to blame
for whatever defects they discover than a faithful glass for
making the wrinkles which it only shows. As to what you
observe, said he, of those we now call free-thinkers having
been anciently termed minute philosophers^ it is my opinion
this appellation might be derived from their considering
things minutely, and not swallowing them in the gross, as
other men are used to do. Besides, we all know the best
eyes are necessary to discern the minutest objects: it
seems, therefore, that minute philosophers might have
been so called from their distinguished perspicacity.

Euph. O Alciphron ! these minute philosophers (since
that is their true name) are a sort of pirates who plunder
all that come in their way. I consider myself as a man
left stripped and desolate on a bleak beach.

II. But who are these profound and learned men that
of late years have demolished the whole fabric which law-
givers, philosophers, and divines had been erecting for so
many ages ?

LysicleSf hearing these words, smiled, and said he
believed Euphranor had figured to himself philosophers in
square caps and long, gowns: but, thanks to these happy
times, the reign of peoMtry was over. Our philosophers,
said he, are of a different kind from those awkward
students who think to come at knowledge by poring on
dead languages and old authors, or by sequestering them-
selves from the cares of the world to meditate in solitude
and retirement They are the best bred men of the age,
men who know the world, men of pleasure, men of fashion,
and fine gentlemen.

BBRKBLBY: FRASBR. II. £

50 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph, I have some small notion of the people you
mention, but should never have taken them for philoso-
phers.

Cri. Nor would any one else till of late. The world it
seems was long under a mistake about the way to know-
ledge, thinking it lay through a tedious course of aca-
demical education and study. But, among the discoveries
of the present age, one of the principal is the finding out
that such a method doth rather retard and obstruct than
promote knowledge.

Ale, Academical study may be comprised in two points,
reading and meditation. Their reading is chiefly employed
on ancient authors in dead languages : so that a great
of their time is spent in learning words ; which, when
have mastered with infinite pains, what do they get by I
but old and obsolete notions, that are now quite explode
and out of use ? Then, as to their meditations, what c
they possibly be good for? He that wants the prope
materials of thought may think and meditate for ever t
no purpose : those cobwebs spun by scholars out of thei
own brains being alike unserviceable, either for use o
I ornament. Proper ideas or materials are only to be go
by frequenting good company. I know several gentlemerm.
who, since their appearance in the world, have spent a^
much time in rubbing off the rust and pedantry of a coUege^
education as they had done before in acquiring it.

Lysides, I will undertake, a lad of fourteen, bred in the
modern way, shall make a better figure, and be more con-
sidered in any drawing-room or assembly of polite people,
than one at four-and-twenty, who hath lain by a long time
at school and college. He shall say better things in a
better manner, and be more liked by good judges.

Euph. Where doth he pick up all this improvement ?

Crt. Where our grave ancestors would never have
looked for it — in a drawing-room, a coffee-house, a choco-
late-house, at the tavern, or groom-porter's. In these and
the like fashionable places of resort, it is the custom for
polite persons to speak freely on all subjects, religious,
moral, or political. So that a young gentleman who
frequents them is in the way of hearing many instructive
lectures, seasoned with wit and raillery, and uttered with
spirit. Three or four sentences from a man of quality.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 51

spoken with a good air, make more impression and convey
more knowledge than a dozen dissertations in a dry aca-
demical way.

Euph. There is then no method, or course of studies, in
those places ?

Lys. None but an easy free conversation, which takes in
ever3rthing that offers, without any rule or design.

Euph, I always thought that some order was necessary
to attain any useful degree of knowledge ; that haste and
confusion begat a conceited ignorance ; that to make our
advances sure, they should be gradual, and those points
first learned which might cast a light on what was to
follow.

Ale. So long as learning was to be obtained only by
that slow formal course of study, few of the better sort
knew much of it : but, now it iias grown an amusement, our
young gentry and nobility imMbe it insensibly amidst their
diversions, and make a considerable progress.

Euph, Hence probably the great number of minute
philosophers.

Cn". It is to this that sect is owing for so many ingenious
proficients of both sexes. You may now commonly see
(what no former age ever saw) a young lady, or a petit
maitre, nonplus a divine, or an old-fashioned gentleman,
who hath read many a Greek and Latin author, and spent
much time in hard methodical study.

Euph. It should seem then that method, exactness, and
industry are a disadvantage.

Here Alciphron, turning to Lysicles, said he could make
the point very clear, if Euphranor had any notion of
painting.

Euph. I never saw a first-rate picture in my life, but
have a tolerable collection of prints, and have seen some
good drawings.

Ale. You know then the difference between the Dutch
and Italian manner ?

Euph. I have some notion of it.

Ale. Suppose now a drawing finished by the nice and
laborious touches of a Dutch pencil, and another off-hand
scratched out in the free manner of a great Italian master.
The Dutch piece, which hath cost so much pains and time,
will be exact indeed, but without that force, spirit, and

£ 2

52 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

grace which appear in the other, and are the effects of an
easy, free pencil. Do but apply this, and the point will be
clear.

Euph. Pray inform me, did those great Italian masters
begin and proceed in their art without any choice of method
or subject, and always draw with the same ease and free-
dom ? Or did they observe some method, beginning with
simple and elementary parts, an eye, a nose, a finger, which
they drew with great pams and care, often drawing the same
thing, in order to draw it correctly, and so proceeding with
patience and industry, till, after a considerable length of
time, they arrive at the free masterly manner you speak
of. If this were the case, I leave you to make the appli-
cation.

Ale. You may dispute the matter if you please. But

a man of parts is one thing, and a pedant another. Pains

^nd method may do for some sort of people. A man must

be a long time kindling wet straw into a vile smothering

/^flame, but spirits blaze out at once.

Euph. The minute philosophers have, it seems, better
parts than other men, which qualifies them for a different
education.

Ale. Tell me, Euphranor, what is it that gives one man
a better mien than another; more politeness in dress,
speech, and motion ? Nothing but frequenting good com-
pany. By the same means men get insensibly a delicate
taste, a refined judgment, a certain politeness in thinking
and expressing one's self. No wonder if you countrymen
are strangers to the advantage of polite conversation, which
constantly keeps the mind awake and active, exercising its
faculties, and calling forth all its strength and spirit, on
a thousand different occasions and subjects that never
came in the way of a book-worm in a college, any more
than of a ploughman.

Cri. Hence those lively faculties, that quidcness of appre-
hension, that slyness of ridicule, that egre||jous talent of
wit and humour which distinguish the gentlemen of your
profession.

Euph. It should seem then that your sect is made up
of what you call fine gentlemen.

Lys. Not altogether, for we have among us some con-
templative spirits of a coarser education, who, from observ-

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 53

g the behaviourand proceedings of apprentices, watermen,
porters, and the assemblies of rabble in the streets, have
arrived at a profound Itnowledge of human nature, and
made great discoveries about the principles, springs, and
motives of moral actions. These have demolished the
received systems, and done a world of good in the city.

Ale. I tell you we have men of all sorts and professions,
plodding citizens, thriving stock-jobbers, skilful men in
business, polite courtiers, gallant men of the army; but
our chief strength, and flower of the flock, are those pro-
mising young men who have the advantage of a modern
education. These are the growing hopes of our sect, by
whose credit and influence in a few years we expect to see
those great things accomplished that we have in view.

Eiiph. I could never have imagined your sect so con-
siderable,

Ak. There are in England many honest folk as much in
the dark about these matters as yourselves.

12. To judge of the prevailing opinion among people
of fashion, by what a senator saith in the house, a judge
upon the bench, or a priest in the pulpit, who all speak
according to law, that is to the reverend prejudices of our
forefathers, would be wrong. You should go into good '
company, and mind what men of parts and breeding say, '
those who are best heard and most admired, as well in
public places of resort as in private visits. He only who
hath these opportunities can know our real strength, our
numbers, and the figure that we make.

Euph. By your account there must be many minute
philosophers among the men of rank and fortune.

Ale. Take my word for it, not a few ; and they do much
contribute to the spreading our notions. For, he who
knows the world must observe that fashions constantly
descend. It is therefore the right way to propagate an
opinion from the upper end. Not to saythat the patronage
of such men is an encouragement to our authors.
Euph. It seems, then, you have authors among you.
Lys. That we have, several, and those very great men,
who have obliged the world with many useful and profound
discoveries.
Cri. Moschon, for instance, hath proved that man and

54 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

beast are really of the same nature: that consequently
a man need only indulge his senses and appetites to be as
happy as a brute. Gorgias hath gone further, demon-
strating man to be a piece of clock-work or machine ; and
that thought or reason is the same thing as the impulse of
one ball against another. Cimon hath made noble use of
these discoveries, proving, as clearly as any proposition
in mathematics, that conscience is a whim, and morality a
prejudice ; and that a man is no more accountable for his
actions than a clock is for striking. Tryphon hath written
irrefragably on the usefulness of vice. Thrasenor hath
confuted the foolish prejudice men had against atheism,
shewing that a republic of atheists might live very happily
together. Demylas hath made a jest of loyalty, and con-
vinced the world there is nothing in it : to him and another
philosopher of the same stamp this age is indebted for
discovering that public spirit is an idle enthusiasm, which
seizeth only on weak mmds. It would be endless to re-
count the discoveries made by writers of this sect.

Lys. But the masterpiece and finishing stroke is a learned
anecdote of our great Diagoras, containing a demonstration
against the being of God : which it is conceived the public
is not yet ripe for \ But I am assured by some judicious
friends who have seen it, that it is as clear as daylight,
and will do a world of good, at one blow demolishing the
whole system of religion. These discoveries are published
by our philosophers, sometimes in just volumes, but often
in pamphlets and loose papers for their readier conveyance
through the kingdom. And to them must be ascribed that
absolute and independent freedom which groweth so fast
to the terror of all bigots. Even the dull and ignorant
begin to open their eyes, and be influenced by the example
and authority of so many ingenious men.

Euph. It should seem by this account that your sect
extend their discoveries beyond religion ; and that loyalty
to his prince and reverence for the laws are but mean
things in the eye of a minute philosopher.

Lys. Very mean. We are too wise to think there is
anything sacred either in king or constitution, or indeed

^ The reference is'to AnUiony Alciphron,* and * Advertisement,'
Collins. See ' Editor's Preface to note by Editor.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

in anything else. A man of sense may perhaps seem to
pay an occasional regard to his prince : but this is no more
at bottom than what he pays to God, when he kneels at
the sacrament to qualify himself for an office'. 'Fear
God ' and ' Honour the king ' are a pair of slavish maxims,
which had for a long time cramped human nature, and
awed not only weak minds but even men of good under-
standing, till their eyes, as I observed before, were opened
by our philosophers.

Euph. Methinks I can easily comprehend that when the
fear of God is quite extinguished the mind must be very
easy with respect to other duties, which become outward
pretences and formalities, from the moment that they quit
their hold upon the conscience ; and conscience always
supposeth the being of a God. But I still thought that
Englishmen of all denominations (how widely soever they
differ as to some particular points) agreed in the belief
of a God, and of so much at least as is called Natural
Religion.

Ale. I have already told you my own opinion of those
matters, and what I know to be the opinion of many more.

Cri. Probably, Euphranor, by the title of Deists, which
is sometimes given to minute philosophers, you have been
misled to imagine they believe and worship a God according
to the light of nature ; but, by living among them, you
may soon be convinced of the contrary. They have neither
time, nor place, nor form of Divine worship ; they offer
neither prayers nor praises to God in public ; and in their
private practice shew a contempt or dislike even of the
duties of Natural Religion. For instance, the saying
grace before and after meals is a plain point of natural
worship, and was once universally practised, but in pro-
portion as this sect prevailed it hath been laid aside, not
only by the minute philosophers themselves, who would
be infinitely ashamed of such a weakness as to beg God's
blessing or give God thanks for their daily food, but also
by others who are afraid of being thought fools by the
■ iininute philosophers '.

' Cf. Dial. 111. sect. a. in his Remarks vn Ihc Miniili

Bcntenceia ridiculedbylhe Philosophtr, pp, 38-40.
Coiin I ry Clergyman ' ('Sporua'),

56 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph, Is it possible that men who really believe a God
should yet decline paying so easy and reasonable a duty
for fear of incurring the contempt of atheists ?

Cri, I tell you there are many who, believing in their
hearts the truth of religion, are yet afraid or ashamed
to own it, lest they should forfeit their reputation with
those who have the good luck to pass for great wits and
men of genius.

Ale. O Euphranor, we must make allowance for Crito's
prejudice: he is a worthy gentleman, and means well.
But doth it not look like prejudice to ascribe the respect
that is paid our ingenious free-thinkers rather to good luck
than to merit ?

Euph, I acknowledge their merit to be very wonderful,
and that those authors must needs be great men who are
able to prove such paradoxes : for example, that so knowing
a man as a minute philosopher should be a mere machine,
or at best no better than a brute.

Ale. It is a true maxim — That a man should think with
the learned, and speak with the vulgar. I should be loath to
place a gentleman of merit in such a light, before prejudiced
or ignorant men. The tenets of our philosophy have this
in common with many other truths in metaphysics, geometry,
astronomy, and natural philosophy, that vulgar ears cannot
bear them. All our discoveries and notions are in them-
selves true and certain ; but they are at present known
only to the better sort, and would sound strange and odd
among the vulgar. But this, it is to be hoped, will wear
off with time.

Euph, I do not wonder that vulgar minds should be
startled at the notions of your philosophy.

Cri, Truly a very curious sort of philosophy, and much
to be admired !

13. The profound thinkers of this way have taken a
direct contrary course to all the great philosophers of
former ages, who made it their endeavour to raise and
refine human-kind, and remove it a§ far as possible from
the brute ; to moderate and subdue men's appetites ; to
remind them of the dignity of their nature ; to awaken
and improve their superior faculties, and direct them
to the noblest objects ; to possess men's minds with

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

a high sense of the Divinity, of the Supreme Good, and
the Immortality of the Soul. They took great pains to
strengthen the obligations to virtue ; and upon all those
subjects have wrought out no.blc theories, and treated
with singular force of reason. But it seems our minute
philosopners act the reverse of all other wise and thinking
men ; it being their end and aim to erase the principles
of all that is great and good from the mind of man, to
unhinge all order of civil life, to undermine the foundations
of morality, and, instead of improving and ennobling our
natures, to bring us down to the maxims and way of think-
ing of the most uneducated and barbarous nations, and
even to degrade human-kind to a level with brute beasts.
And all the while they would pass upon the world for
men of deep knowledge. But, in effect, what is all this
negative knowledge better than downright savage ignor-
ance? That there is no Providence, no Spirit, no Future
State, no Moral Duty: truly a fine system for an honest
man to own, or an ingenious man to value himself upon !

Alciphron, who heard this discourse with some uneasiness,
very gravely replied : — Disputes are not to be decided by
the weight of authority, but by the force of reason. You
may pass, indeed, general reflexions oh our notions, and
call them brutal and barbarous if you please : but it is such
brutality and such barbarism as few could have attained
to if men of the greatest genius had not broken the ice,
there being nothing more difficult than to get the better
of education, and conquer old prejudices. To remove and
cast off a heap of rubbish that has been gathering upon
the soul from our very infancy requires great courage and
great strength of faculties. Our philosophers, therefore, do
well deserve the name of espr its /oris, men of strong heads,
free-thinkers, and such like appellations, betokening great
force and liberty of mind. It is very possible the heroic
labours of these men may be represented (for what is not
capable of misrepresentation ?) as a piratical plundering ',
and stripping the mind of its wealth and ornaments, when
it is in truth divesting it only of its pc^udices, and reducing
it to its untainted original state of nature. Oh nature ! the
genuine beauty of pure nature !

' Cf. sect lo.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph, You seem very much taken with the beauty of
nature. Be pleased to tell me, Alciphron, what those things
are which you esteem natural, or by what mark I may
know them.

14. Ale. For a thing to be natural, for instance, to the
mind of man, it must appear originally therein ; it must
be universally in all men ; it must be invariably the same
in all nations and ages. These limitations of original,
universal, and invariable exclude all those notions found
in the human mind which are the effect of custom and
education \ The case is the same with respect to all other
species of beings. A cat, for example, hath a natural
inclination to pursue a mouse, because it agrees with the
forementioned marks. But, if a cat be taught to play
tricks, you will not say those tricks are natural. For the
same reason, if upon a plum-tree peaches and apricots are
engrafted, nobody will say they are the natural growth
of the plum-tree.

Euph. But to return to man. It seems you allow those

things alone to be natural to him which show themselves

upon his first entrance into the world ; to wit, the senses,

f and such passions and appetites as are discovered upon

the first application of their respective objects.

Ale. That is my opinion.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, if from a young apple-tree,
after a certain period of time, there should shoot forth
leaves, blossoms, and apples ; would you deny these things
to be natural, because they did not discover and display
themselves in the tender bud ?

Ale. I would not.

Euph. And suppose that in a man, afler a certain season,
the appetite of lust, or the faculty of reason, shall shoot

' The marks for distinguishing
the genuine constituent principles
of human nature from prejudices
apt to be mistaken for them, are
discussed in this and the following
section. This is obviously a cardinal
inquiry in philosophical method and
criticism. Are those judgments only
to be esteemed natural vthich shew
themselves in infancy, in all men,

and in the same form in all ; and
must faith in Moral Government
and in a Future Life be pronounced
irrational prejudices, if we find that,
unlike the bodily appetites, they
are of gradual growth, and un-
developed in some men? — CC
Berkeley's Discourse of Passive
Obedience, sect. 4-12.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

forth, open, and display themselves, as leaves and blossoms
do in a tree ; would you, therefore, deny them to be
natural to him, because they did not appear in his original
infancy ?

Ak. 1 acknowledge 1 would not.

Eitpli. It seems, therefore, that the first mark of a thing's
being natural to the mind was not warily laid down by
you ; to wit, that it should appear originally in it.
Ale. It seems so.

Euph. Again, inform me, Alciphron, whether you do not
think it natural for an orange-plant tree to produce oranges ?
Ale. 1 do.

Euph. But plant it in the north end of Great Britain,
and it shall with care produce, perhaps, a good salad ;
in the southern parts of the same island, it may, with much
pains and culture, thrive and produce indifferent fruit ;
but in Portugal or Naples it will produce much better,
with little or no pains. Is this true or not?
Ale. It is true.

Euph. The plant being the same in all places doth not
produce the same fruit— sun, soil, and cultivation making
a difference.
Ale. I grant it.

Euph. And, since the case is, you say, the same with
respect to all species, why may we not conclude, by a parity
of a reason, that things may be natural to human-kind,
and yet neither found in all men, nor invariably the same
where they are found?

Ale. Hold, Euphranor, you must explain yourself further.
1 shall not be over hasty in my concessions.

Lys. You are in the right, Alciphron, to stand upon your
guard. I do not like these ensnaring questions.

Euph. I desire you to make no concessions in com-
plaisance to me, but only to tell me your opinion upon each
particular, that we may understand one another, know
wherein to agree, and proceed jointly in finding out the
truth. But (added Euphranor, turning to Crito and me)
if the gentlemen are against a free and fair inquiry, I shall
give them no further trouble.

Ale. Our opinions will stand the test. We fear no trial ;
proceed as you please,
Euph. It seems then that, from what you have granted,

6o ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

it should follow things may be natural to men, although
they do not actually shew themselves in all men, nor in
equal perfection ; there being as great difference of culture,
and every other advantage, with respect to human nature,
as is to be found with respect to the vegetable nature of
plants, to use your own similitude ; is it so or not ?

Ak, It is.

Euph. Answer me, Alciphron, do not men in all times
and places, when they arrive at a certain age, express their
thoughts by speech ?

ATc, They do.

Euph. Should it not seem, then, that language is natural ?

Ale. It should.

Euph, And yet there is a great variety of languages ?

Ak. I acknowledge there is.

Euph, From all this will it not follow a thing may be
natural and yet admit of variety?

Ale, I grant it will.

Euph, Should it not seem, therefore, to follow that a
thing may be natural to mankind, though it have not those
marks or conditions assigned ; though it be not original,
universal, and invariable ?

Ale. It should.

Euph, And that, consequently, religious worship and
civil government may be natural to man, notwithstanding
they admit of sundry forms and different degrees of per-
fection ?

Ale, It seems so.

Euph, You have granted already that reason is natural
to mankind.
_^Ale. I have.

Euph. Whatever, therefore, is agreeable to reason is
agreeable to the nature of man.
-" Ale, It is.

Euph. Will it not follow from hence that truth and
virtue are natural to man?

Ale, Whatever is reasonable I admit to be natural.

Euph, And, as those fruits which grow from the most
generous and mature stock, in the choicest soil, and with
the best culture, are most esteemed; even so ought we
not to think those sublime truths, which are the iruits
of mature thought, and have been rationally deduced by

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

m en o f the best and most improved understandings, to be
the choicest productions of the rational nature of man ?
And, if so, being in fact reasonable, natural, and true,
they ought not to be esteemed unnatural whims, errors
of education, and groundless prejudices, because they are
raised and forwarded by manuring and cultivating our
tender minds, because they take early root, and sprout
forth betimes by the care and diligence of our instructors ?

Ale. Agreed, provided still they may be rationally de-
duced : but to take this for granted of what men vulgarly
call the Truths of Morality and Religion, would be begging
the question.

Euph. You are in the right: I do not, therefore, take
for granted that they are rationally deduced. I only
suppose that, if they are, they must be allowed natural
to man ; or, in other words, agreeable to, and growing
from, the most excellent and peculiar part of human
nature.

Ate. I have nothing to object to this.

Euph. What shall we think then of your former asser-
tions — that nothing is natural to man but what may be
found in all men, in all nations and ages of the world ;
that, to obtain a genuine view of human nature, we must
extirpate all the effects of education and instruction, and
regard only the -Sensfis, appetites, _and passions, which are
tooeTound oi:iginally_iii_alL mankind ; that, therefore, the
notion of a,GQd can have no foundation in nature, as not
being qfi^rially m the mind, nor the same in all men ? Be
pleased to reconcile these things with your late concessions,
which the force of truth seems to have extorted from you '.

15. Ale. Tell me, Euphranor, whether truth be not one
and the same, uniform, invariable thing : and, if so, whether
the many different and inconsistent notions which men
entertain of God and duty be not a plain proof there is
no truth in them ?

Euph. That truth is constant and uniform 1 freely own,
and that consequently opinions repugnant to each other
cannot all be true : but I think it will not hence follow they

' Butler's Smnoiis— Pre face, and
the 'Sermons on Human Nature'^
1 which he explains ■ following

'^^'

62 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

are all alike false. If, among various opinions about the
same thing, one be grounded on clear and evident reasons,
that is to be thought true, and others only so far as they
consist with it. Reason is the same, and rightly applied
will lead to the same conclusions, in all times and places.
Socrates, two thousand years ago, seems to have reasoned
himself into the same notion of a God which is entertained
by the philosophers of our days, if you will allow that
name to any who are not of your sect \ And the remark
of Confucius, that a man should guard in his youth against
lust, in manhood against faction, and in old age against
covetousness, is as current morality in Europe as in
China.

A/c, But still it would be a satisfaction if all men thought
the same way ; difference of opinions implying uncertainty.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, what you take to be the cause
of a lunar eclipse ?

A/c. The shadow of the earth interposing between the
sun and moon.

Euph. Are you sure of this ?
i Ale. Undoubtedly.
^ Euph. Are all mankind agreed in this truth ?

Ale. By no means. Ignorant and barbarous people
/assign different ridiculous causes of this appearance.
/ Euph. It seems, then, there are different opinions about
the nature of an eclipse ?

Ale. There are.

Euph. And nevertheless one of these opinions is true.

Ale. It is.

Euph. Diversity, therefore, of opinions about a thing,
doth not hiiidef that the thing may be, and one of the
opinicms^ concerning it may be true ?

Ale. I acknowledge it.

Euph. It should seem, therefore, that your argument
against the belief of a God, from the variety of opinions
about His nature, is not conclusive. Nor do I see how
you can conclude against the truth of any moral or religious
tenet, from the various opinions of men upon the same
subject. Might not a man as well argue, that no historical
account of a matter of fact can be true, when different

* ^ of your sect ' — * atheists/ in the first edition.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 63

relations are given of it? Or, mayite^npt as well infer
that, because the several sects of philosophy rnaintain dif-
ferent opinions, none ofthem can be in the right ; not even
the minute philosophers themselves?

During this conversation Lysicles seemed uneasy, like
one that wished in his heart there was no God. Alciphron,
said he, methinks you sit by very tamely, while Euphranor
saps the foundation of our tenets.

Be of good courage, replied j^/ojsArow; a skilful gamester
has been known to ruin his adversary by yielding him
some advantage at first. I am glad, said he, turning to
Euphranor, that you are drawn in to argue, and make
j'our appeals to reason. For my part, wherever reason
leads I shall not be afraid to follow. Know then, Euphranor,
that I freely give up what you now contend for. 1 do not
value the success of a few crude notions thrown out in
a loose discourse, any more than the Turks do the loss
of that vile infantry they place in the front of their armies,
for no other end but to waste the powder, and blunt the
swords of their enemies. Be assured 1 have in reserve
a body of other guess arguments, which I am ready to
produce. I will undertake to prove

Euph. O Alciphron ! I do not doubt your faculty of
proving. But, before 1 put you to the trouble of any
farther proofs, I should be glad to know whether the
notions of your minute philosophy are worth proving; \
1 mean, whether they are of use and service to mankind.

16. Ale. As to that, give me leave to tell you, a thing
may be useful to one man's views, and not to another's :
but truth is truth, whether useful or not, and must not
be measured by the convenience of this or that man, or
pany of men.

Euph. But is not the general good of mankind to be
regarded as a rule and measure of moral truths, of all
such truths as direct or influence the moral actions of
men '?

Ale. That point is not clear to me. I know, indeed.

• The Discoiirst o/Possivt Obedi-
j be compared with this
Ud the two following Dialogues,

64 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

that legislators, and divines, and politicians have always
alleged, that it is necessary to the well-being of mankind
that they should be kept in awe by the slavish notions
of religion and morality *. But, granting all this, how will
it prove these notions to be true? Convenience is one
thing, and truth is another. A genuine philosopher, there-
fore, will overlook all advantages, and consider only truth
itself as such.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, is your genuine philosopher
a wise man, or a fool ?

Ale, Without question, the wisest of men.

Euph, Which is to be thought the wise man, he who acts
with design, or he who acts at random ?

Ak. He who acts with design.

Euph. Whoever acts with design, acts for some end :
doth he not ?

Ale, He doth.
-'* Euph. And a wise man for a good end ?

Ak. True.

Euph. And he sheweth his wisdom in making choice of
fit means to obtain his end ?

Ale. I acknowledge it.

Euph. By how much, therefore, the end proposed is
more excellent, and by how much fitter the means em-
ployed are to obtain it, so much the wiser is the agent
to be esteemed ?

Ak. This seems to be true.

Euph. Can a rational agent propose a more excellent
end than happiness ?

Ale. He cannot.

Euph. Of good things, the greater good is most excel-
Oent? ""^^

Ak. Doubtless.
fv Euph. Is not the general happiness of mankind a greater
good than the private happiness of one man, or of some
certain men ?

Ak. It is.

Euph. Is it not therefore the most excellent end ?

Ak. It seems so.

* * The moral virtues are the begot upon pride.* — Fable of the
political oiiispring which flattery Bees.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE

Euph. Are not then those who pursue this end, by the
properest methods, to be thought the wisest men ?

Ale. I grant they are,

Euph. Which is a wise man governed by, wise or foolish
notions ?

Ale. By wise, doubtless.

Euph, It seems then to follow, that he who promotes the
general well-being of mankind, by the proper necessary
means, is truly wise, and acts upon wise grounds.

Ale. It should seem so.

Euph. And is not folly of an opposite nature to wisdom ?

Ale. It is.

Euph. Might it not therefore be inferred, that those men
are foolish who go about to unhinge such principles as
have a necessary connexion with the general good of
mankind ?

Ale. Perhaps this might be granted : but at the same
time I must observe that it is in my power to deny it.

Euph. How ! you will not surely deny the conclusion,
when you admit the premises ?

Ale. I would fain know upon what terms we argue ;
whether in this progress of question and answer, if a man
makes a slip, it be utterly irretrievable? For, if you are
on the catch to lay hold of every advantage, without
allowing for surprise or inattention, I must tell you this
is not the way to convince my judgment. >

Euph. O Alciphron ! I aim not at triumph, but at truth.l
You are therefore at full liberty to unravel all that hath]
been said, and to recover or correct any slip you havi
made. But then you must distinctly point it out : otherwisi
it will be impossible ever to arrive at any conclusion.

Ale. 1 agree with you upon these terms jointly to proceed
in search of truth, for to that I am sincerely devoted. In
the progress of our present inquiry, 1 was, it seems, guilty
of an oversight, in acknowledging the general happiness of
mankind to be a greater good than the particular happi-
ness of one man. For in fact the individual happiness of
every man alone constitutes his own entire good. The
happiness of other men, making no part of mine, is not
with respect to me a good : I mean a true natural good.
It cannot therefore be a reasonable end to be proposed by
me, in truth and nature (for I do not speak of political

66 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

pretences), since no wise man will pursue an end which
doth not concern him. This is the voice of nature. O
nature! thou art the fountain, original, and pattern of
all that is good and wise.

Euph, You would like then to follow nature, and propose
her as a guide and pattern for your imitation ?

Ale. Of all things.

Euph. Whence do you gather this respect for nature ?

Ale. From the excellency of her productions.

Euph. In a vegetable, for instance, you say there is use
and excellency; because the several parts of it are so
connected and fitted to each other as to protect and nourish
the whole, make the individual grow, and propagate the
kind; and because in its fruits or qualities it is adapted
to please the sense, or contribute to the benefit of man.

Ale. Even so.

Euph. In like manner, do you not infer the excellency
of animal bodies from observing the frame and fitness
of their several parts, by which they mutually conspire
to the well-being of each other as well as of the whole ?
Do you not also observe a natural union and consent
between animals of the same kind ; and that even different
kinds of animals have certain qualities and instincts
whereby they contribute to the exercise, nourishment,
and delight of each other? Even the inanimate unor-
ganized elements seem to have an excellence relative
to each other. Where was the excellency of water, if
it did not cause herbs and vegetables to spring from the
earth, and put forth flowers and fruits ? And what would
become of the beauty of the earth, if it was not warmed
by the sun, moistened by water, and fanned by air?
Throughout the whole system of the visible and natural
world, do you not perceive a mutual connexion and
correspondence of parts ? And is it not from hence that
you frame an idea of the perfection, and order, and beauty
of nature ?

Ale. All this I grant.

Euph. And have not the Stoics heretofore said (who
were no more bigots than you are), and did you not
yourself say, this pattern of order was worthy of the
imitation of rational agents ?

Ale. I do not deny this to be true.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE 67

iph. Ought we not, therefore, to infer the same union,
order, and regularity in the moral world that we perceive
to be in the natural ?

Ale. We ought.

Euph. Should it not therefore seem to follow, that
re_asqnable_creatiires were, as the philosophical Emperor'
observes, njade one for another ; and, consequently, that
matt ought not to consider hitiiself as an independent indivi-
dual, whose happiness is not connected with that of other
men ; but rather as a part of a whole, to the common good
of which he ought to conspire, and order his ways and
actions suitably, if he would live according to nature ?

Ak. Supposing this to be true, what then ?

Euph. Will it not follow that a wise man should consider
and pursue his private good, with regard to, and in con-
junction with that of -Other men? In granting of "wHicR,
you thought yourself guilty of an oversight, Though,
indeed, the sympathy of pain and pleasure, and the mutual
affections by which mankind are knit together have been _
always allowed a plain proof of this point : and though
ft was the constant doctrine of those who were esteemed
the wisest and most thinking men among the ancients,
as the Piatonists, Peripatetics, and Stoics ; to say nothing
of Christians, whom you pronounce to be an unthinking,
prejudiced sort of people'.

Ale. I shall not dispute this point with you.

Euph. Since, therefore, we are so far agreed, should
it not seem to follow from the premises— that the belief
of a God, of a future state, and of moral duties are the
only wise, right, and genuine principles of human conduct,
in case they have a necessary connexion with the well-
being of mankind ? This conclusion you have been led to
by your own concessions, and by the analogy of nature.

Ale. I have been drawn into it step by step through
several preliminaries, which I cannot well call to mind ;

' [M. Antonin. Lib. IV.] — Au- a whole, to the common good of

THOB, which he ought to conspire,' if

' Thia implies Berkeley's moral he would live 'accordingto nature.'

Ideal, and the root of hts Social The happiness of mankind, being a

Idealism — that each man ought not greater good than the happiness of

to consider himself an independent any one man, ought accordingly to

individual, but rather as 'part of be the chief end of hnman actions.
F 2

68 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

but one thing I observe, that you build on the necessary^
connexion those principles have with the well-being o£'
mankind, which is a point neither proved nor granted.

Lys. This I take to be a grand fundament^ prejudice,
as I doubt not, if I had time, I could make appear. But i^
is now late, and we will, if you think fit, defer this subject
till to-morrow ^

Upon which motion of Lysicles, we put an end to ou ir
conversation for that evening.

' The Country Clergyman, section Euphranor ' puzzles an<J
(' Sporus ') complains that in this perplexes tlie qti^tion.'

THE SECOND DIALOGUE'.

I. Vulgar error^ that vice is hurtful. 2. The benefit of drunkenness,
gaming, and whoring. 3. Prejudice against vice wearing off. 4. Its
usefulness illustrated in the instances of Callicles and Telesilla.
5. The reasoning of Lysicles in behalf of vice examined. 6. Wrong
to punish actions, when the doctrines whence they flow are tolerated.
7. Hazardous experiment of the minute philosophers. 8. Their
doctrine of circulation and revolution. 9. Their sense of a reformation.
10. Riches alone not the public weal. 11. Authority of minute
philosophers : their prejudice against religion. 12. Effects of luxury :
virtue, whether notional ? 13. Pleasure of sense. 14. What sort
of pleasure most natural to man. 15. Dignity of human nature.
16. Pleasure mistaken. 17. Amusements, misery, and cowardice of
minute philosophers. 18. Rakes cannot reckon. 19. Abilities and
success of minute philosophers. 20. Happy effects of the minute
philosophy in particular instances, ai. Their free notions about
government. 22. England the proper soil for minute philosophy.
23. The policy and address of its professors. 24. Merit of minute
philosophers towards the public. 25. Their notions and character.
26. Their tendency towards popery and slavery.

I. Next morning Alciphron and Lysicles said the
weather was so fine they had a mind to spend the day
abroad, and take a cold dinner under a shade in some

* In this Dialogue Mandeville is
represented by Lysicles ; who de-
fends the paradox — * private vices,
public benefits,' popular among
the men of pleasure of the time,
the text in the FabU of the Bees,
the sixth edition of which appeared
in the same year as Alciphron, His
reply to Berkeley is contained in
the Letter to Dion,

Bernard de Mandeville was born
in Holland about 1670, practised as
a physician in London, and died
in 1733. The Fable of the Bees
(i 702) argues for a view of morality

at the opposite pole to that of
Shaftesbury, whose system is the
subject of discussion in the Third
Dialogue, while this Dialogue is
devoted to Mandeville, so that a
sort of pessimism and a sort of
optimism are represented in those
Dialogues. Berkeley here deals
with free-thought as proposing, on
the ground of the public good, an
unrestrained fVeedom of the animal
man. Lysicles, the man of plea-
sure, is accordingly now the promi-
nent free-thinker.

70 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

pleasant part of the country. Whereupon, after break-
fast, we went down to a beach about half a mile off;
where we walked on the smooth sand, with the ocean
on one hand, and on the other wild broken rocks',
intermixed with shady trees and springs of water, till
the sun began to be uneasy. We then withdrew into
a hollow glade, between two rocks, where we had no
sooner seated ourselves than Lyskles^ addressing himself
to Euphranor, said: — I am now ready to perform what
I undertook last evening, which was to s hew there is
nothing in that necessary connexion which some men^
imagine between those principles you contenji for, and
the public good. I freely own that if this question was
to be decided by the authority of legislators or philo-
sophers it must go against us. For those men generally
take it for granted that Vice is pernicious to the public ;
and that men cannot be kept from vice but by the fear
of God, and the sense of a Future State : whence they are
induced to think the belief of such things necessary to
the well-being of human-kind. This false notion hath pre-
vailed for many ages in the world, and done an infinite
deal of mischief, being in truth the cause of religious
establishments, and gaining the protection and encourage-
ment of laws and magistrates to the clergy and their
superstitions. Even some of the wisest among the ancients,
who agreed with our sect in denying a Providence and
the Immortality of the Soul, had nevertheless the weakness
to lie under the common prejudice, that vice was hurtful
to societies of men. But England hath of late produced
great philosophers *, who have undeceived the world, and

^ The Second Beach and Hanging
Rocks, Rhode Island.

2 Mandeville is here referred to.
* It is not,* says Hutcheson, in his
reply to Mandeville, * the interest
of every writer to free his words
from ambiguity. " Private vices
public benefits** may signify any
one of these five distinct proposi-
tions : — " private vices are them-
selves public benefits;** or, "private
vices naturally tend, as the direct
and necessary means, to produce
public happiness ; " or, " private

vices, by dexterous management
of governors, may be made to tend
to public happiness ; ** or, " private
vices naturally and necessarily flow
from public happiness ; *' or, lastly,
** private vices will probably flow
from public prosperity, through the
present corruption of men," . . .
Far be it from a candid writer to
charge upon him [Mandeville] any
one of these opinions more than
another; for, if we treat him fairly,
and compare the several parts of
his works together, we shall find

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 71

proved Co a demonstration that private vices are public
benefits. This discovery was reserved to our times, and
our sect hath the glory of it.

Cri, It is possible some men of fine understanding might
in former ages have had a glimpse of this important truth ;
but it may be presumed they lived in ignorant times and
bigoted countries, which were not ripe for such a discovery.

Lys. Men of narrow capacities and short sight, being
able to see no further than one link in a chain of conse-
quences, are shocked at small evils which attend upon
vice. But those who can enlarge their view, and look
through a long series of events, niay_beh.Qld_.happiness
rpsiiljin g from vii-p^ and good springing out of evil in
a thousand instances. To prove my point, I shall not
trouble you with authorities, or far-fetched arguments, but
bring you to plain matter of fact. Do but take a view of
each particular vice, and trace it through its eff'ects and
consequences, and then you will clearly perceive the
advantage it brings to the public'.

2. Drunkenness ", for instance, is by your sober moralists
thought a pernicious vice ; but it is for want of considering
the good effects that flow from it. For, in the first place,
it increases the malt tax, a principal branch of his majesty's
revenue, and thereby promotes the safety, strength, and
glory of the nation. Secondly, it employs a great number
of hands, the brewer, the mahster, the ploughman, the
dealer in hops, the smith, the carpenter, the brazier, the
joiner, with all other artificers necessary to supply those
enumerated with their respective instruments and utensils.
All which advantages are procured from drunkenness in
the vulgar way, by strong beer. This point is so clear
it will admit of no dispute. But, while you are forced to
allow thus much, I foresee you are ready to object against
drunkenness occasioned by wine and spirits, as exporting
wealth into foreign countries. But do you not reflect on
the number of hands which even this sets on work at

i for

such D

charge.'—
(Rimaris n[ioii Ike Fable of the
Btes.) In Mandcvilie's Letter la
DiaH, pp. 36-3B, he seems to adopt
ihe third of those propositions, and
adds that by 'happiness' he intends
temporal happiness only.

" Sec Fable of llii Bees. 'Remark'
G, where the author tries to shew
the tendency of drunkenness to

72 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

home: the distillers, the vintners, the merchants, the
sailors, the shipwrights, with all those who are employed
towards victualling and fitting out ships, which upon a nice
computation will be found to include an incredible variety
of trades and callings. Then, for freighting our ships to
answer these foreign importations, all our manufacturers
throughout the kingdom are employed, the spinners, the
weavers, the dyers, the wool-combers, the carriers, the
packers. And the same may be said of many other manu-
facturers, as well as the woollen. And if it be further
considered how many men are enriched by alLthe fore-
mentioned ways of trade and business, and the expenses
of these men and their families, in all the several articles
of convenient and fashionable living, whereby all sorts of
trades and callings, not only at home but throughout all
parts wherever our commerce reaches, are kept in employ-
ment; you will be amazed at the wonderfully-extended
scene of benefits which arises from the single vice of
drunkenness, so much run down and declaimed against
by all grave reformers.

With as much judgment your half-witted folk are
accustomed to censure gaming ^ And indeed (such is
the ignorance and folly of mankind) a gamester and a
drunkard are thought no better than public nuisances,
when in truth they do each in their way greatly conduce
to the public benefit. If you look only on the surface and
first appearance of things, you will no doubt think playing
at cards a very idle and ifruitless occupation. But dive
deeper, and you shall perceive this idle amusement
employs the card-maker, and he sets the paper-mills at
work, by which the poor rag-man is supported; not to
mention the builders and workers in wood and iron that
are employed in erecting and furnishing those mills.
Look still deeper, and you shall find that candles and
chair-hire employ the industrious and the poor, who, by
these means, come to be relieved by sharpers and gentle-
men, who would not give one penny in charity. But, you
will say that many gentlemen and ladies are ruined by
play, without considering that what one man loses another
gets, and that, consequently, as many are made as ruined :

^ See Fable o/iheBeeSj ^Remsirk^ making it an article in social
£, on the advantages of gambling, morality.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 73

money changeth hands, and in this circulation the life of
business and commerce consists. When money is spent,
it is all one to the public who spends it. Suppose a fool
of quality becomes the dupe of a man of mean birth and
circumstance who has more wit. In this case what harm
doth the public sustain ? Poverty is relieved, ingenuity
is rewarded, the money stays at home, and has a lively
circulation, the ingenious sharper being enabled to set up
an equipage and spend handsomely, which cannot be done
without employing a world of people. But you will per-
haps object that a man reduced by play may be put upon
desperate courses, hurtful to the public. Suppose the
worst, and that he turns highwayman ; such men have
a short life and a merry. While he lives, he spends, and
for one that he robs makes twenty the better for his
expense. And, when his time is come, a poor family may
be relieved by fifty or a hundred pounds set upon his head.
A vulgar eye looks on many a man as an idle or mis-
chievous fellow, whom a true philosopher, viewing in
another light, considers as a man of pleasant occupation,
who diverts himself, and benefits the public, and that with
so much ease that he employs a multitude of men, and
sets an infinite machine in motion, without knowing the
good he does, or even intending to do any: which is
peculiar to that gentleman-like way of doing good by vice.
I was considering play, and that insensibly led me to the
advantages which attend robbing on the highway. Oh the
beautiful and never-enough-admired connexion of vices !
It would take too much time to shew how they all hang
together, and what an infinite deal of good takes its rise
from every one of them. One word for a favourite vice,
and I shall leave you to make out the rest yourself, by
applying the same way of reasoning to all other vices.
A poor girl, who might not have the spending of half-
a-crown a week in what you call an honest way, no
sooner halh the good fortune to be a kept-mistress, but
she employs milliners, laundresses, tire-women, mercers,
and a number of other trades, to the benefit of her
country. It would be endless to trace and pursue
every particular vice through its consequences and effects,
and shew the vast advantage they all are of to the public.
I' The true springs that actuate the great machine of com-

74 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

merce, and make a flourishing state, have been hitherto
little understood. Your moralists and divines have for so
many ages been corrupting the genuine sense of mankind,
and filling their heads with such absurd principles, that it
is in the power of few men to contemplate real life with an
unprejudiced eye. And fewer still have sufficient parts and
sagacity to pursue a long train of consequences, relations,
and dependences, which must be done in order to form
a just and entire notion of the public weal. But, as I said
before, our sect hath produced men capable of these dis-
coveries, who have displayed them in full light, and made
them public for the benefit of their country.

3. Oh I said Euphranor, who heard this discourse with
great attention, you, Lysicles, are the very man I wanted,
eloquent and ingenious, knowing in the principles of your
sect, and willing to impart them. Pray tell me, do these
principles find an easy admission in the world ?

Lys, They do among ingenious men and people of
fashion, though you will sometimes meet with strong pre-
judices against them in the middle sort, an effect of
ordinary talents and mean breeding.

Euph. I should wonder if men were not shocked at
notions of such a surprising nature, so contrary to all laws,
education, and religion.

Lys. They would be shocked much more if it had not
been for the skilful address of our philosophers, who, con-
sidering that most men are influenced by names rather
than things, have introduced a certain polite way of speak-
ing, which lessens much of the abhorrence and prejudice
towards vice.

Euph, Explain me this.

Lys, Thus, in our dialect, a vicious man is a man of
pleasure, a sharper is one that plays the whole game, a
lady is said to have an affair, a gentleman to be a gallant,
a rogue in business to be one that knows the world. By
this means, we have no such things as sots, debauchees,
whores, rogues, or the like, in the beau monde, who may
enjoy their vices without incurring disagreeable appella-
tions.

Euph, Vice then is, it seems, a fine thing with an ugly
name.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 75

Lys, Be assured it is.

Euph. It should seem then that Plato's fearing lest youth
might be corrupted by those fables which represented the
gods vicious was an effect of his weakness and ignorance \

Lys. It was, take my word for it.

Euph, And yet Plato had kept good company, and lived
in a court ! And Cicero, who knew the world well, had
a profound esteem for him *.

Cri, I tell you, Euphranor, that Plato and Tully might
perhaps make a figure in Athens or Rome : but, were they
to revive in our days, they would pass but for underbred
pedants, there being at most coffee-houses in London
several able men who could convince them they knew
nothing in, what they are valued so much for, morals and
politics.

Lys. How many long-headed men do I know, both in
the court-end and the city, with five times Plato's sense,
who care not one straw what notions their sons have of
God or virtue.

4. Cri. I can illustrate this doctrine of Lysicles by
examples that will make you perceive ks force. Cleophon,
a minute philosopher, took strict care of his son's educa-
tion, and entered him betimes in the principles of his sect.
Callicles (that was his son's name), being a youth of parts,
made a notable progress ; insomuch that before he became
of age he killed his old covetous father with vexation, and
ruined the estate he lefl behind him ; or, in other words,
made a present of it to the public, spreading the dunghill
collected by his ancestors over the face of the nation, and
making out of one overgrown estate several pretty fortunes
for ingenious men, who live by the vices of the great.
Telesilla, though a woman of quality and spirit, made no
figure in the world, till she was instructed by her husband
in the tenets of minute philosophy, which he wisely thought
would prevent her giving anything in charity. From that
time, she took a turn towards expensive diversions, particu-
larly deep play, by which means she soon transferred
a considerable share of his fortune to several acute men
skilled in that mystery, who wanted it more, and circulated

' See Republic J Bk. II. * See TuscuL Quast, I. 17.

76 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

it quicker, than her husband would have done, who in
return hath got an heir to his estate, having never had
a child before. The same Telesilla, who was good for
nothing as long as she believed her catechism, now shines
in all public places, is a lady of gallantry and fashion, and
has, by her extravagant parade in lace and fine clothes,
raised a spirit of expense in other ladies, very much to the
public benefit, though it must be owned to the mortifica-
tion of many frugal husbands.

While Crito related these facts with a grave face, I could
not forbear smiling, which Lysicks observing — Superficial
minds, said he, may perhaps.find something to ridicule in
these accounts ; but all who are masters of a just way of
thinking must needs see that those maxims, the benefit
whereof is universal, and the damage only particular to
private persons or families, ought to be encouraged in
a wise commonwealth.

For my part, said Euphranor^ I confess myself to be
rather dazzled and confounded than convinced by your
reasoning ; which, as you observed yourself, taking in the
connexion of many distant points, requires great extent of
thought to comprehend it. I must therefore entreat you
to bear with my defects ; suffer me to take to pieces what
is too big to be received at once. And, where I cannot
keep pace with you, permit me to follow you step by step,
as fast as I can.
^^ Lys, There is reason in what you say. Every one can-

not suddenly take a long concatenation of arguments.

Euph. Your several arguments seem to centre in this:
that vice circulates money and promotes industry *, which
cause a people to flourish. Is it not so ?

Lys. It is.

Euph, And the reason that vice produceth this effect, is,
because it causeth an extravagant consumption ; which is
the most beneficial to the manufactures, their encourage-
ment consisting in a quick demand and high price?

Lys, True.

Euph. Hence you think a drunkard most beneficial to
the brewer and the vintner, as causing a quick consump-
tion of liquor, inasmuch as he drinks more than other men ?

^ See Fable of the Bees, * Remarks/ passim. '

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

£.ys. Without doubt.

Euph. Say, Lysicles, who drinks most, a sick man or
a healthy?

Lys, A healthy.

Etibh. And which is healthier, a sober man or a
drunkard?

Lys. A sober man.

Euph. A sober man, therefore, in health may drink more
than a drunkard when he is sick ?
Lys. He may.

Euph. What think you, will a man consume more meat
and drink in a long life or a short one ?
Lys. In a long.

Euph. A sober healthy man, therefore, in a long life,
may circulate more money by eating and drinking, than
a glutton or drunkard in a short one ?
Lys. What then ?

Euph. Why then it should seem that he may he more
beneficial to the public, even in this way of eating and
drinking.

Lys. I shall never own that temperance is the way to
promote drinking,

Euph. But you will own sickness lessens, and death
puts an end to a!! drinking? The same argument will
hold, for aught I can see, with respect to all other vices
that impair men's health and shorten [heir lives. And, if
we admit this, it will not be so clear a point that vice hath
merit towards the public ',

Lys. But, admitting that some artificers or traders might
be as well encouraged by the sober men as the vicious;
what shall we say of those who subsist altogether by vice
and vanity?

Euph. If such there are, may they not be otherwise
employed without loss to the public ? Tell me, Lysicles,
is there anything in the nature of vice, as such, that renders
it a public blessing, or is it only the consumption it occa-
sions ?

Lys. I have already shewn how it benefits the nation by
the consumption of its manufactures.
Euph. And you have granted that a long and healthy

' In Hutcheson's Remarks upon the Fable of the Bees, p. 61, similar
reasoning is employed.

78 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

life consumes more than a short and sickly one ; and you
will not deny that many consume more than one ? Upon
the whole then, compute and say, which is most likely to
promote the industry of his countiymen, a virtuous married
man with a healthy numerous offspring, and who feeds
and clothes the orphans in his neighbourhood, or a fashion-
able rake about town ? I would fain know whether money
spent innocently doth not circulate as well as that spent
upon vice ? And, if so, whether by your own rule it doth
not benefit the public as much?

Lys. What I have proved, I proved plainly, and there
is no need of more words about it.

Euph. You seem to me to have proved nothing, unless
you can make it out that it is impossible to spend a fortune
innocently. I should think the public weal of a nation
consists in the number and good condition of its inhabit-
ants ; have you anything to object to in this ?

Lys, I think not.

Euph. To this end which would most conduce, the
employing men in open air and manly exercise, or in
a sedentary business within doors?

Lys. The former, I suppose.

Euph, Should it not seem, therefore, that building,
gardening, and agriculture would employ men more use-
fully to the public than if tailors, barbers, perfumers, dis-
tillers, and such arts were multiplied ?

Lys. All this I grant ; but it makes against you. For,
what moves men to build and plant but vanity, and what is
vanity but vice ?

Euph. But, if a man should do those things for his con-
venience or pleasure, and in proportion to his fortune,
without a foolish ostentation, or overrating them beyond
their due value, they would not then be the effect of vice ;
and how do you know but this may be the case ?

Cri. One thing I know, that the readiest way to quicken
that sort of industry, and employ carpenters, masons,
smiths, and all such trades, would be to put in practice the
happy hint of a celebrated minute philosopher ^, who, by
profound thinking, has discovered that burning the city of
London would be no such bad action as silly prejudiced

* Mandeville. who refers to this thrust in his Letter to Dion, p. 4.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 79

people might possibly imagine ; inasmuch as it would pro-
duce a quick circulation of property, transferring it from
the rich to the poor, and employing a great number of
artificers of all kinds. This, at least, cannot be denied,
that it hath opened a new way of thinking to our incendi-
aries, of which the public hath of late begun to reap the
benefit,

Eiiph. I cannot sufficiently admire this ingenious thought.

6, But methinks it would be dangerous to make it
public.

Cri. Dangerous to whom ?

Euph. In the first place to the publisher.

Cri. That is a mistake; for the notion hath been published
and met with due applause, in this most wise and happy
age of free -thin king, free -speaking, free-writing, and free-
acting.

Euph. How may a man then publish and practise such
things with impunity?

Cri. To speak the truth, I am not so clear as to the
practical part. An unlucky accident now and then befals
an ingenious man. The minute philosopher Magirus,
being desirous to benefit the public, by circulating an
estate possessed by a near relation who had not the
heart to spend it, soon convinced himself, upon these
principles, that it would be a very worthy action to dispatch
out of the way such a useless fellow, to whom he was
next heir. But, for this laudable attempt, he had the
misfortune to be hanged by an underbred judge and jury.
Could anything be more unjust?

Euph. Why unjust?

Cri. Is it not unjust to punish actions, when the prin-
ciples from which they directly follow are tolerated and
applauded by the public? Can anything be more incon-
sistent than to condemn in practice what is approved in
speculation ? Truth is one and the same ; it being im-
possible a thing should be practically wrong and specu-
latively right. Thus much is certain, Magirus was perfect
master of all this theory, and argued most acutely about
it with a friend of mine, a little before he did the fact for
which he died,
■ Lys. The best of it is the world every day grows wiser ;

8o ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

[* though it must be owned, the writers of our isect have
not yet shaken off all respect for human laws, whatever
they may do as to divine. It seems they venture no
further, than to recommend an inward principle of vice,
operating under an outward restraint of human laws.

Cri. That writer who considers man only as an instru-
ment of passion, who absolves him from all ties of con-
science and religion, and leaves him no law to respect or
fear but the law of the land, is to be sure a public benefit]
You mistake, Euphranor, if you think the minute philo-
sophers idle theorists ; they are men of practical views.

Euph, As much as I love liberty, I should be afraid to
live among such people ; it would be, as Seneca some-
where expresseth it, in libertate bellis ac tyrannis sceviore,

Lys. What do you mean by quoting Plato and Seneca?
Can you imagine a free-thinker is to be influenced by the
authority of such old-fashioned writers ?

Euph, You, Lysicles, and your friend, have oflen quoted
to me. ingenious moderns, profound fine gentlemen, with
new names of authors in the minute philosophy, to whose
merits I am a perfect stranger. Suffer me in my turn to
cite such authorities as I know, and have passed for many
ages upon the world.

7. But, authority apart, what do you say to experience ?
My observation can reach as far as a private family ; and
some wise men have thought a family may be con sider ed
as a small kingdom, or a kingdom as a great family. Do
you admit this to be true ?

Lys. If I say yes^ you will make an inference ; and if
I say nOf you will demand a reason. The best way is to
say nothing at all. There is, I see, no end of answering.

Euph. If you give up the point you undertook to prove,
there is an end at once : but, if you hope to convince me,
you must answer my questions, and allow me the liberty
to argue and infer.

Lys. Well, suppose I admit that a kingdom may be con—
sidered as a great family.

Euph. I shall ask you then, whether ever you knev^^^
private families thrive by those vices you think so beneficia-^
to the public ?

^ The words within brackets were added in the second edition.

H^ THE SECOND DIALOGUE Si

r i^ys. Suppose I have not.

Euph. Might not a man therefore, by a parity of reason, >
suspect their being of that benefit to the public?

Lys. Fear not; the next age will thrive and flourish.

Euph. Pray tell me, Lysicles ; suppose you saw a fruit
of a new untried kind; would you recommend it to your
own family to make a full meal of?

Lys. 1 would not.

Euph. Why then would you try upon your own country
these maxims which were never admitted in any other?

Lys. The experiment must begin somewhere ; and we
are resolved our own country shall have the honour and
advantage of it,

Euph. O Lysicles ! hath not old England subsisted for
many ages without the help of your notions?

► Lvs. She has.
£i4ph. And made some figure ?
Lys. I grant it.
Ettph, Why then should you make her run the risk of a
new experiment, when it is certain she may do without it?

Lys. But we would make her do better. We would
produce a change in her that never was seen in any nation.

Euph. Sallust observes ' that a little before the downfall
of the Roman greatness avarice {the effect of luxury) had
erased the good old principles of probity and justice, had
produced a contempt for religion, and made everything
venal ; while ambition bred dissimulation, and caused \
men to unite in clubs and parties, not from honourable \
motives, but narrow and interested views. The same
historian observes ' of that great free-thinker Catiline, that
he made it his business to insinuate himself into the ac-
quaintance of young men, whose minds, unimproved by
years and experience, were more easily seduced, I know
not how it happens, but these passages have occurred
lo my thoughts more than once during this conversation.

Lys. Sallust was a sententious pedant,

Euph. But consult any historian, look into any writer.
See, for instance, what Xenophon and Livy say of Sparta
and Rome, and then tell me if vice be not the likeliest
way to ruin and enslave a people. ■" ~

82 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Lys. When a point is clear by its own evidence, I never
think it worth while to consult old authors about it

Cru It requires much thought and delicate observation
to go to the bottom of things. But one who hath come at
truth with difficulty can impart it with ease. I will,
therefore, Euphranor, explain to you in three words (what
none of your old writers ever dreamt of) — the true cause
of ruin to those states. You must know that vice and
virtue, being opposite and contradictory principles, both
working at once in a state, will produce contrary effects,
which intestine discord must needs tend to the dissolution
and ruin of the whole. But it is the design of our minute
philosophers, by making men wicked upon principle, a
thing unknown to the ancients, so to weaken and destroy
the force of virtue that its effects shall not be felt in the
public. In which case, vice being uncontrolled, without
let or impediment of principle, pure and genuine, without
allay of virtue, the nation must doubtless be very flourish-
ing and triumphant.

Euph. Truly, a noble scheme I

Cri. And in a fair way to take effect. For, our young
proficients in the minute philosophy, having, by a rare
felicity of education, no tincture of bigotry or prejudice,
do far outgo the old standers and professors of the sect ;
who, though men of admirable parts, yet, having had the
misfortune to be imbued in their childhood with some
religious notions, could never after get entirely rid of
them ; but still retain some small grains of conscience and
superstition, which are a check upon the noblest genius.
In proof of this, I remember that the famous minute
philosopher, old Demodicus, came one day from conver-
sation upon business with Timander, a young gentleman
of the same sect, full of astonishment. I am surprised,
said he, to see so young, and withal so complete a villain ;
and, such was the force of prejudice, spoke of Timander
with abhorrence, not considering that he was only the
more egregious and profound philosopher of the two.

8. Euph, Though much may be hoped from the un-
prejudiced education of young gentlemen, yet it seems
we are not to expect a settled and entire happiness, before
vice reigns pure and unmixed: till then, much is to be
feared from the dangerous struggle between vice and

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 83

■ wrtue, which may perchance overturn and dissolve this
government, as it hath done others.

Lys. No matter for that, if a better comes in its place.
We have cleared the land of all prejudices tawards
government or constitution, and made them fly like other
phantasms before the light of reason and good sense.
Men who think deeply cannot see any reason why power
should not change hands as well as property ; or why the
fashion of a government should not be changed as easy
as that of a garment. The perpetual circulating and revolv-
ing of wealth and power, no matter through what or whose
handsi is that which keeps up life and spirit in a state '.
Those who are even slightly read in our philosophy, know
that of all prejudices, the silliest is an attachment to forms.

Cri. To say no more upon so clear a point, the over-
turning of a government may be justified upon the same
principles as the burning a town, would produce parallel
effects, and equally contribute to the public good. In both
cases, the natural springs of action are forcibly exerted ;
and, in this general industry, what one loses another gets,
a quick circulation of wealth and power making the sum
total to flourish.

Euph. And do the minute philosophers publish these
things to the world ?

Lys. It must be confessed our writers proceed in Politics
with greater caution than they think necessary with regard
to Religion.

Cri. But those things plainly follow from their principles,
and are to be admitted for the genuine doctrine of the sect,
expressed perhaps with more freedom and perspicuity than
might be thought prudent by those who would manage the
public, or not offend weak brethren.

Euph. And pray, is there not need of caution, a rebel or
incendiary being characters that many men have a prejudice
against ?

Lys. Weak people of all ranks have a world of absurd
prejudices.

Euph, But the better sort, such as atatesmen and legis-
lators ; do you think they have not the same indisposition
towards admitting your principles?

' Hne Fable 0/ Ihe Bees, 'Remits' G, I: L, M.

-^•».

84 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Lys. Perhaps they may ; but the reason is plain.

Crt. This puts me in mind of that ingenious philosopher,
the gamester Glaucus, who used to say, that statesmen and
law-givers may keep a stir about right and wrong, just and
unjust, but that, in truth, property of every kind had so
often passed from the right owners by fraud and violence
that it was now to be considered as lying on the common,
and with equal right belonged to every one that could
seize it.

Euph. What are we to think then of laws and regula-
tions relating to right and wrong, crimes and duties ?

Lys, They serve to bind weak minds, and keep the
vulgar in awe: but no sooner doth a true genius arise,
but he breaks his way to greatness through all the tram-
mels of duty, conscience, religion, law ; to all which he
sheweth himself infinitely superior.

9. Euph. You are, it seems, for bringing about a thorough
reformation ?

Lys. As to what is commonly called the Reformation,
I could never see bow or wherein the world was the better
for it. It is much the same as Popery, with this difference,
that it is the more prude-like and disagreeable thing of the
two. A noted writer of ours ^ makes it too great a compli-
ment, when he computes the benefit of hooped petticoats
to be nearly equal to that of the Reformation. Thorough
reformation is thorough liberty. Leave nature at full free-
dom to work her own way, and all will be well. This is
what we aim at, and nothing short of this can come up
to our principles.

CritOf who is a zealous protestant, hearing these words,
could not refrain. The worst effect of the Reformation,
said he, was the rescuing wicked men from a darkness
which kept them in awe. This, as it hath proved, was
holding out light to robbers and murderers. Light in
itself is good, and the same light which shews a man the
folly of superstition, might shew him the truth of religion,
and the madness of atheism. But, to make use of light
only to see the evils on one side, and never to see, but
to run blindly upon the worst extreme — this is to make

^ Mandeville in the F<ible of the Bees,

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 85

the best of things produce evil, in the same sense as you
prove the worst of things to produce good, to wit, accident-
ally or indirectly: and, by the same method of arguing,
you may prove that even diseases are useful : but whatever
benefit seems to accrue to the public, either from disease
of mind or body, is not their genuine offspring, and may
be obtained without them.

LysicUs was a little disconcerted by the affirmative air
of Crito; but, after a short pause, replied briskly, That
to contemplate the public good was not every one's
talent.

True, said Euphranor, 1 question whether every one
can frame a notion of the public good, much less judge
of the means to promote it.

10. But you, Lysicles, who are master of this subject,
will be pleased to inform me, whether the public good
of a nation doth not imply the particular good of its
individuals?

Lys. It doth.

Enph. And doth not the good or happiness of a man
consist in having both soul and body sound and in good
condition, enjoying those things which their respective
natures require, and free from those things which are
odious or hurtful to them ?

Lys. I do not deny all this to be true.

Euph. Now, it should seem worth while to consider,
whether the regular decent life of a virtuous man may not
as much conduce to this end as the mad sallies of intemper-
ance and debauchery.

Lys. I will acknowledge that a nation may merely
subsist, or be kept alive, but it is impossible it should
flourish without the aid of vice. To produce a quick
circulation of traffic and wealth in a state, there must be
exorbitant and irregular motions in the appetites and
passions ^

' ' The worst of all the multitude This, as in music harmony.

Did somelhiug for [he common Made jarrings in the main
good ; agree :

This WBB the Slate's-craft ParlicB directly opposite

that maintained Assist each other, as 'twere
The whole, of which each part for spite;

^^ complained. And temperance with sobriety

86 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph. The more people a nation contains, and the
happier those people are, the more that nation may be
said to flourish, i think we are agreed in this point.

Lys. We are.

Euph. You allow then that riches are not an ultimate
end, but should only be considered as the means to
procure happiness?

Lys. I do.

Euph. It seems that means cannot be of use without our
knowing the end, and how to apply them to it ?

Lys. It seems so.

Euph. Will it not follow that in order to make a nation
flourish it is not sufficient to make it wealthy, without
knowing the true end and happiness of mankind, and how
to apply wealth towards attaining that end. In proportion
as these points are known and practised, I think the nation
should be likely to flourish. But, for a people who neither
know nor practise them, to gain riches seems to me the
same advantage that it would be for a sick man to come at
plenty of meat and drink, which he could not use but to his
hurt.

Lys. This is mere sophistry; it is arguing without
persuading. Look into common life; examine the pur-
suits of men : have a due respect for the consent of the
world ; and you will soon be convinced that riches alone
are sufficient to make a nation flourishing and happy.
Give them riches and they will make themselves happy,
without that political invention, that trick of statesmen and
philosophers, called virtue.

II. Euph. Virtue then, in your account, is a trick of
statesmen ?
Lys. It is.
Euph. Why then do your sagacious sect betray and

Serve drunkenness and glut- And odious pride a million

tony. more ;

The root of evil, avarice, Envy itself, and vanity,

That damned, ill-natur*d, bane- Were ministers of industry,'

ful vice, &c.

Was slave to prodigality, The Grumbling Hive,

That noble sin ; whilst luxury See relative * Remarks* in Fabie

Employed a million of the of the Bees,

poor.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

divulge that trick or secret of state, which wise men
have judged necessary for the good government of the
world ?

Lysicles hesitating, Crito made answer. That he pre-
sumed it was because their sect, being wiser than all
other wise men, disdained to see the world governed by
wrong maxims, and would set all things on a right
bottom.

Euplt. Thus much is certain. If we look into all institu-
tions of government, and the political writings of such as
have heretofore passed for wise men, we shall find a great
regard for virtue.

Lys. You shall find a strong tincture of prejudice ; but,
as I said before, consult the multitude if you would find
nature and truth.

Euplt, But, among country gentlemen, and farmers, and
the better sort of tradesmen, is not virtue a reputable
thing?

Lys. You pick up authorities among men of low life and
vile education.

Euph. Perhaps we ought to pay a decent respect to the
authority of minute philosophers.

Lys. And I would fain know whose authority should
be more considered than that of those gentlemen,
who are alone above prejudice, and think for them-
selves.

Euph. How doth it appear that you are the only un-
prejudiced part of mankind? May not a minute philo-
sopher, as well as another man, be prejudiced in lavour
of the leaders of his sect ? May not an atheistical education

Erejudice towards atheism ? What should hinder a man's
eing prejudiced against religion, as well as for it? Or
can you assign any reason why an attachment to pleasure,
interest, vice, or vanity, may not be supposed to prejudice
men against virtue ?

Lys, This is pleasant. What ! suppose those very men
influenced by prejudice who are always disputing against
it, whose constant aim it is to detect and demolish pre-
judices of all kinds !

Except their own, replied Crito; for, you must pardon
me if 1 cannot help thinking they have some small pre-
judice, though not in favour of virtue.

88 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

12. I observe, Lysicles, that you allowed to Euphranor ',
the greater number of happy people there are in a state,
the more that state may be said to flourish: it follows,
therefore, that such methods as multiply inhabitants are
good, and such as diminish them are bad, for the public.
And one would think nobody need be told, that the
strength of a state consists more in the number and sort
of people than in anything else. But, in proportion as
vice and luxury, those public blessings encouraged by
this minute philosophy, prevail among us, fewer are dis-
posed to marry, too many being diverted by pleasure,
disabled by disease, or frightened by expense. Nor doth
vice only thin a nation, but also debaseth it by a puny
degenerate race. I might add that it is ruinous to our
manufactures ; both as it makes labour dear, and there-
by enables our more frugal neighbours to undersell us :
and also as it diverts the lower sort of people from honest
callings to wicked projects. If these and such considera-
tions were taken into account, I believe it would be
evident to any man in his senses that the imaginary
benefits of vice bear no proportion to the solid real woes
that attend it.

LysicleSf upon this, shook his head, and smiled at Crito,
without vouchsafing any answer. After which, addressing
himself to Euphranor, There cannot, said he, be a stronger
instance of prejudice than that a man should at this time
of day preserve a reverence for that idol Virtue, a thing
so effectually exposed and exploded by the most knowing
^.V^- men of the age, who have shewn that a man is a mere
' "j engine, played upon and driven about by sensible objects ;

and that moral virtue is only a name, a notion, a chimera,
an enthusiasm, or at best a fashion, uncertain and change-
able, like all other fashions ^

Euph. What do you think, Lysicles, of health; doth
it depend on fancy and caprice, or is it something real in
the bodily composition of a man ?

Lys. Health is something real, which results from the
right constitution and temperature of the organs and the
fluids circulating through them.

Euph. This you say is health of body ?

' Cf. sect. lo. certainty than in Fashions.' — Fable

* * In morals there is no greater of the Bees*

TItE SECOND DIALOGUE

Lys. It is.

Euph. And may we not suppose a healthy constitution
of sou!, when the notions are right, the judgments true,
the will regular, the passions and appetites directed to
their proper objects, and confined within due bounds?
This, in regard to the soul, seems what health is to the
body. And the man whose mind is so constituted, is he
not properly called virtuous ? And to produce this healthy
disposition in the minds of his countrymen, should not
every good man employ his endeavours? ■ If these things
have any appearance of truth, as to me they seem to have,
it will not then be so clear a point that virtue is a mere
whim or fashion, as you are pleased to represent it—
I must own something unexpectedly, after what had been
discoursed in last evening's conference, which, if you
would call to mind, might perhaps save both of us some
trouble.

Lvs. Would you know the truth, Euphranor? I must
own I have quite forgot all your discourse about virtue,
duty, and all such points, which, being of an airy notional
nature, are apt to vanish, and leave no trace on a mind
accustomed only to receive impression from realities.

13. Having heard these words, Euphranor looked at
Crito and me, and said, smiling, I have mistaken my part ;
it was mine to learn, and his to instruct. Then, addressing
himself to Lysicles, Deal faithfully, said he, and let me
know, whether the public benefit of vice be in truth that
which makes you plead for it ?

Lys. I love to speak frankly what I think. Know then
that private interest is the first and principal consideration
with philosophers of our sect. Now of all interests pleasure
is that which hath the strongest charms, and no pleasures
like those which are heightened and enlivened by licence.
Herein consists the peculiar excellency of our principles,
that they shew people how to serve their country by
diverting themselves, causing the two streams of public
spirit and self-love to unite and run in the same channel.
I have told you already that I admit a nation might sub-
sist by the rules of virtue. But, give me leave to say, i t
will barely subsist, in a djtl l joyless insipi d state ; whereas

e sprightly excesse s of vice inspire men with joy. And

90 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

where particulars rejoice, the public, which is made up
of particulars, must do so too : that is, the public must
be happy. This I take to be an irrefragable argument
But, to give you its full force, and make it as plain as
possible, I will trace things from their original. Happi-
ness * is the end to which created beings na turally Je ad ^ :
but we find that all animals, whether men or brutes, do
naturally and principally pursue real pleasure of sense ;
which is therefore to be thought their supreme good, their
true end and happiness. It is for this men live; and
whoever understands life must allow that man to enjoy
the top and flower of it who hath a quick sense of pleasure,
and withal spirit, skill, and fortune sufficient to gratify
every appetite and every taste. Niggards and fools will
envy or traduce such a one because they cannot equal
him. Hence all that sober trifling in disparagement of
what every one would be master of if he could — a full
freedom and unlimited scope of pleasure.

Euph. Let me see whether I understand you. Pleasure
of sense, you say, is the chief pleasure ?

Lys, I do.

Euph. And this would be cramped and diminished by
virtue ?

Lys. It would.

Euph. Tell me, Lysicles, is pleasure then at the height
when the appetites are satisfied ?

Lys. There is then only an indolence, the lively sense
of pleasure being past.

Euph. It should seem, therefore, that the appetites must
be always craving, to preserve pleasure alive ?

Lys. That is our sense of the matter.

Euph. The Greek philosopher, therefore, was in the
right, who considered the body of a man of pleasure as
a leaky vessel, always filling and never full.

Lys. You may divert yourself with allegories, if you
please. But all the while ours is literally the true taste
of nature. Look throughout the universe, and you shall
find birds and fishes, beasts and insects, all kinds of
animals, with which the creation swarms, constantly
engaged by instinct in the pursuit of sensible pleasure.

* See Aristotle's Nichom. Ethics, I. 4-7, X. 1-7 ; Cicero, De Fmtbus,
I. II.

And shall man alone be the grave fool who thwarts, and
crosses, and subdues his appetites, whilst his fellow-
creatures do all most joyfully and freely indulge them ?

Eupb. How ! Lysicles ! I thought that being governed
by the senses, appetites, and passions was the most grievoi.is
slavery ; and that the proper business of free-thinkers,
or philosophers, had been to set men from the power
of ambition, avarice, and sensuality!

Lys. You mistake the point. We make men relish the
world, attentive to their interests, lively and luxurious
in their pleasures, without fear or restraint either from
God or man. We despise those preaching writers, who
used to disturb or cramp the pleasures and amusements
of human life. We hold that a wise man who meddles
with business doth it altogether for his interest, and refers
his interest to his pleasure. With us it is a maxim, that"
a man should seize the moments as they fly. With-
out love, and wine, and play, and late hours we hold
life not to be worth living. I grant, indeed, that there
is something gross and ill-bred in the vices of mean men,
which the genteel philosopher abhors. ''

Cri. But to cheat, whore, betray, get drunk, do all
these things decently, this is true wisdom, and elegance
of taste.

14, Etiph. To me, who have been used to another way
of thinking, this new philosophy seems difficult to digest.
I must, therefore, beg leave to examine its principles with
the same freedom that you do those of other sects.

I^s. Agreed.

Eiiph. Y ou say, if I mistake not, that a wise man pur -
s ues only Rts~private interest, and tfiat this consists in
'sensual pleasure ; lor proot whereof you appeal to nature.
Is not this what you advance ?

Lys. It is.

Euph. You conclude, therefore, that, as other animals
are guided by natural instinct, man too ought to follow
the dictates of sense and appetite ?

Lys. I do.

Euph. But in this do you not argue as if man had only
sense and appetite for his guides; on which supposition
there might be truth in what you say? But what if he

92 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

hath intellect, reason, a higher instinct and a nobler life'?
If this be the case, and you, being man, live like a brute,
is it not the way to be defrauded of your true happiness ?
to be mortified and disappointed ? Consider most sort
of brutes, you shall perhaps find them have a greater
share of sensual happiness than man.

Lys. To our sorrow we do. This hath made several
gentlemen of our sect envy brutes, and lament the lot
of human-kind.

Cri. It was a consideration of this sort which inspired
Erotylus with the laudable ambition of wishing himself
a snail, upon hearing of certain particularities discovered
in that animal by a modern virtuoso.

Euph. Tell me, Lysicles, if you had an inexhaustible
fund of gold and silver, should you envy another for
having a little more copper than you ?

Lys. I should not.

Euph, Are not reason, imagination, and sense^ facu lties
di ffering in kind, and in ran k higher one than another?

Lys, I do not deny it.

Euph. Their acts therefore differ in kind ?

Lys. They do.

Euph. Consequently the pleasures perfective of those
acts are also different.

Lys. They are.

Euph, You admit, therefore, three sorts of pleasure :—
pleasure of reason, pleasure of imagination, and pleasure
of sense.

Lys, I do.

Euph. And, as it is reasonable to think the operation
of the highest and noblest faculty to be attended with the
highest pleasure, may we not suppose the two former
to be as gold or silver, and the latter only as copper?
whence it should seem to follow that man need not envy
or imitate a brute.

Lys. And, nevertheless, there are very ingenious men
who do. And surely every one may be allowed to know
what he wants, and wherein his true happiness consists.

Euph. Is it not plain that different animals ha ve diff erent
pleasures ? Take a hog from his ditch' of "dungRlllTiay

* See Butler s SermonSy Preface.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

him on a rich bed, treat him with sweetmeats, and music,
and perfumes. All these things will be no entertainment
to him. Do not a bird, a beast, a fish amuse themselves
in various manners, insomuch that what is pleasing to one
may be death to another ? Is it ever seen that one of
those animals quits its own element or way of living,
to adopt that of another? and shall man quit his own
nature to imitate a brute?

Lys. But sense is not only natural to brutes; is it not
also natural to man ?

Eitpli. It is, but with this difference : it maketh the
whole of a brute, but is the lowest part or faculty of
a human soul. The nature of anything is peculiarly that
which doth distinguish it from other things, not what it
hath in common with them. Do you allow this to be
true?

Lys. I do.

Euph. And is not reason that which makes the principal
difference between man and other animals ?

Lys. his.

Euph. Reason, therefore, bejn^ the princiijal part-of /I
our nature, whatever is most reasonable should seem most Y/ I
natural to man. ^ust we not therefore think rational y/ f

pleasures more agree anie to ' '" — ' " — " "*'

Man and bear — ' — ~

kind than those of
JiffLiLiit HBtuiLS, a<^em"

sei^e"

to have different faculties, different enjoyments, and dif-
ferent sorts of happiness. You can easily conceive, that
the sort of life which makes the happiness of a mole or
a bat would be a very wretched one for an eagle. And
may you not as well conceive that the happiness of a brute
can never constitute the true happiness of a man ? A beast,
without reflexion or remorse, without foresight, or appetite
of immortality, without notion of vice or virtue, or order,
or reason, or knowledge! What motive, what grounds,
can there be for bringing down man, in whom are all these
things, to a level with such a creature? What merit, what
ambition, in the minute philosopher to make such an
animal a guide or rule for human .life'?

' Cf. Dial, 1. sect 14,
ilions and beliefs wlik-h ai

94 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

15. Lys. It is strange, Euphranor, that one who admits
freedom of thought, as you do, should yet be such a slave
to prejudice. You still talk of order and virtue, as of real
things, as if our philosophers had never demonstrated that
they have no foundation in nature, and are only the eflfects
of education.

I know, said Crito, how the minute philosophers are
accustomed to demonstrate this point. They consider the
animal nature of man, or man so far forth as he is animaP;
and it must be owned that, considered in that light, he
hath no sense of duty, no notion of virtue. He, therefore,
who should look for virtue among mere animals, or human-
kind as such, would look in the wrong place. But that
philosopher who is attentive only to the animal part of his
being, and raiseth his theories from the very dregs of our
species, might probably, upon second thoughts, find himself
mistaken.

Look you, Crito, said Lysicles^ my argument is with
Euphranor ; to whom addressing his discourse: — I observe,
said he, that you stand much upon the dignity of human
nature. This thing of digiiitvJ&_ an ol d whrTT^iit- notion,
which depends on-othfirjiotions, old_and_stale, and worn-
out, such as an immaterial spirit, and a ray derived from
the Divinity. But in these days men of sense make a jest
of all this grandeur and dignity; and many there are
would gladly exchange their share of it for the repose,
and freedom, and sensuality of a brute. But comparisons
are odious; waiving therefore all inquiry concerning the
respective excellencies of man and beast, and whether it
is beneath a man to follow or imitate brute animals, in
judging of the chief good, and conduct of life and' manners,
I shall be content to appeal to the authority of men them-
selves for the truth of my notions. Do but look abroad
into the world, and ask the common run of men, whether
pleasure of sense be not the only true, solid, substantial
good of their kind ?

Euph. But might not the same vulgar sort of men prefer
a piece of sign-post painting to one of Raphael's, or a
Grub-street ballad to an ode of Horace? Is there not
a real difference between good and bad writing?

* Cf. sect. 14.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

jLv5. There is.

£uph. And yet you will allow there must be a maturity
and improvement of understanding to discern this differ-
ence, which doth not make it therefore less real ?

Lys. I will.

Euph, In the same manner, what should hinder but
there may be in nature a true difference between vice and
virtue, although it require some degree of reflexion and
judgment to observe it? In order to know whether a thing
be agreeable to the rational nature of man, it seems one
should rather observe and consult those who have most
employed or improved their reason.

Lys. Well, I shall not insist on consulting the common
herd of mankind. From the ignorant and gross vulgar,
I might myself appeal in many cases to men of rank
and fashion.

Euph. They are a sort of men I have not the honour
to know much of by my own observation. But I remember
a remark of Aristotle, who was himself a courtier, and
knew them well. 'Virtue,' saith he\ 'and good sense
are not the property of high birth or a great estate. " Nor
if they who possess these advantages, wanting a taste for
rational pleasure, betake themselves to those of sense,
ought we therefore to esteem them eligible, any more
than we should the toys and pastimes of children, because
they seem so to them ? ' — And indeed one may be allowed
to question whether the truest estimate of things was to
be expected from a mind intoxicated with luxury, and
dazzled with the splendour of high living.

Cum stupet insanis acies fulgoribus, et cum
Acclinis falsis animus meliora recusal. — Hor.

Crito upon this observed that he knew an English noble-
man ^ who in the prime of life professeth a liberal art, and
is the first man of his profession in the world ; and that

o:^^

* \Ethk. ad Nkom, Lib. X. c. vi.]
— Author.

» Probably Richard Boyle, third
Earl of Burlington, famed for
architectural taste. Pope intro-
duced Berkeley, on his return from
the Continent, to Lord Burlington,
who, as we are told by Stock,

* conceived a high esteem for him
on account of his great taste and
skill in architecture ; an art of
which his lordship was an excellent
judge and patron, and which Mr.
Berkeley had made his particular
study while in Italy.'

■\

96 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

he was very sure he had more pleasure from the exercis
of that elegant art than from any sensual enjoyment witiiii
the power of one of the largest fortunes and most bountifu
spirits in Great Britain.

16. Lys. But why need we have recourse to the jud^

ment of other men in so plain a case ? I appeal to you^KT
own breast, consult that, and then say if sensible pleasur^^
be not the chief good of man.

Euph, I, for my part have often thought those pleasure^^
which are highest in the esteem of sensualists, so far fron — =»
being the chiefest good, that it seemed doubtful, upon th
whole, whether they were any good at all, any more th
the mere removal of pain. Are not our wants and appetit
uneasy ?

Lys. They are.

Euph. Doth not sensual pleasure consist in satisfyin
them?

Lys, It doth.

Euph. But the cravings are tedious, the satisfactio
momentary. Is it not so?

Ly^. It is; but what then?

Euph. Why then it should seem that ^g gsual pleasur^
is but a short deliverance from long pain. Along avenim
oT uneasiness leads fo"a^omt"of pleasure, which ends
disgust or remorse.

Cri. And he who pursues this ignis fatuus imagines
himself a philosopher and free-thinker,

Lys. Pedants are governed by words and notions, while
^the wiser men of pleasure follow fact, nature, and sense.

Cri. But what if notional pleasures sh ould in fa ct prove
) the most real and lasting ? Pure pleasures of reason and
; imagmatioh neiffieYTTurt the health, nor waste the f ortune,
^ nor gall the conscience^ ByTfiem the riTuiHTiTongenter-
Hameowittout" loathing or satiety. On the other hand,
a notion (which with you it seems passeth for nothing
often embitters the most lively sensual pleasures ; which
at bottom will be found also to depend upon notion more
than perhaps you imagine : it being a vulgar remark, that
those things are more enjoyed by hope and foretaste of
the soul than by possession. Thus much is yielded, that
the actual enjoyment is very short, and the alternative of
appetite and disgust long as well as uneasy. So that

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

upon tlie whole, it should seem those gentlemen who
are called men of pleasure, from their eager pursuit of it,
do in reality, with great expense of fortune, ease, and
health, purchase pain,

£.ys. You may spin out plausible arguments, but will
after all find it a difficult matter to convince me that so
many ingenious men should not be able to distinguish
(between things so directly opposite as pain and pleasure.
H ow is it possible to account for this ?

0(. I believe a reason may be assigned for it, but to
""•en of pleasure no truth is so palatable as a fable. Jove
(Tice upon a time having ordered that pleasure and pain
^hould be mixed in equal proportions in every dose of
"Uiran life; upon a complaint that some men endeavoured
'^ separate what he had joined, and taking more than their
^'^are of the sweet, would leave all the sour for others,
'^'^nimanded Mercury to put a stop to this evil, by fixing
'^Ty each delinquent a pair of invisible spectacles, which
pOould change the appearance of things, making pain
'-^ok like pleasure, and pleasure like pain, labour like
J'^creation, and recreation like labour. From that time
•»e men of pleasure are eternally mistaking and re-
t^enting.

Lys. If your doctrine takes place, I would fain know
What can be the advantage of a great fortune, which all
tHankind so eagerly pursue.

Cri, It is a common saying with Eucrates that a great
fortune is an edged tool, which a hundred may come at for
one who knows how to use it, so much easier is the art of
getting than that of spending. What its advantage is 1 will
not say, but 1 will venture to declare what it is not. I am
sure that where abundance excludes want, and enjoyment
prevents appetites, there is not the quickest sense of those

Eleasures we have been speaking of, in which the footman
ath often a greater share than his lord, who cannot
enlarge his stomach in proportion to his estate.

17, Reasonable and well-educated men of all ranks have,
I believe, pretty much the same amusements, notwith-
standing the difference of their fortunes: but those who
are particularly distinguished as men of pleasure seem to
s it in a very small degree.

98 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph. I have heard that among persons of that charactei
a game of cards is esteemed a chief diversion.

Lys. Without cards there could be no living for peoph
of fashion. It is the most delightful way of passing ai
evening when gentlemen and ladies are got together, wh(
would otherwise be at a loss what to say or do with them-
selves. But a pack of cards is so engaging that it doth -m
not only employ them when they are met, but serves to -^

draw them together. Quadrille gives them pleasure in

prospect during the dull hours of the day, they reflect on it
with delight, and it furnishes discourse when it is over.

Cri. One would be apt to suspect these people of con-
dition pass their time but heavily, and are but little th<
better for their fortunes, whose chief amusement is a thin^
in the power of every porter or footman, who is as well
qualified to receive pleasure from cards as a peer. I cai
easily conceive that, when people of a certain turn are got
together, they should prefer doing anything to the ennui
of their own conversation ; but it is not easy to conceive
there is any great pleasure in this. What a card-table
afford requires neither parts nor fortune to judge of.

Lys. Play is a serious amusement, that comes to th<
relief of a man of pleasure, after the more lively an<
affecting enjoyments of sense. It kills time beyond any-
thing; and is a most admirable anodyne to divert 01
prevent thought, which might otherwise prey upon the
mind.

Cri. I can easily comprehend that no man upon
ought to prize a nody nes for the spleen more than a man o
fashion and pleasure. An ancient sage, speaking of om
of that character, saith he is made wretched by disappoint- —

ments and appetites, AvTrctrcu airorrvyxdviav KoX iiriOvfimv, Anci3

if this was true of the Greeks, who lived in the sun, and hacr3
so much spirit, I am apt to think it is still more so of ou
modem English. Something there is in our climate an
complexion that makes idleness nowhere so much its
punishment as in England, where an uneducated fin
gentleman pays for his momentary pleasures, wijth Ion
and cruel intervals of spleen: for relief of which he i^
driven into sensual excesses, that produce a pro pQrtion abL ^
depression of spirits, which, as it createth a greater wan*
of pleasures, so it lessens the ability to enjoy them. Ther"^

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

99 ^H

glishnian, ^H
ke in the I

is a cast of thought in the complexion of an Engli
w-liich renders him the most unsuccessful rake in the
iv-carid. He is (as Aristotle expresseth it) at variance
with himself. He is neither brute enough to enjoy his
3p>petites, nor man enough to govern them. He knows
3ri«] feels that what_he_pursues is not his true good; his
•"e^flesion serving only to shew him that misery which
"is habitual sloth and indolence will not suifer him to
'■^medy. At length, being grown odious to himself, and
••^t* liorriiig his own company, he runs into every idle
assembly, not from the hopes of pleasure, but merely to
'"^Bpite the pain of his own mind. Listless and uneasy at
'"»« present, he hath no delight in reflecting on what is
f*^st, or in the prospect of anything to come. This man
**^ pleasure, when, after a wretched scene of vanity and
^^'"^De, his animal nature is worn to the stumps, wishes
^*^d dreads death by turns, and is sick of living, without
^ ^.ving ever tried or known the true life of man.
. Euph. It is well this sort of life, which is of so little
^nefit to the owner, conduceth so much to that of the
^Vjblic. But pray tell me, do these gentlemen set up for
^^ inute philosophers ?

Cri. That sect, you must know, contains two sorts of
f^liilosophers, the wet and the dry. Those I have been
'icscribing are of the former kind. They differ rather in
tiractice than in theory. As an older, graver, or duller
*>ian, from one that is younger, and more capable or fond
^f pleasure. The dry philosopher passeth his time but
*4ryly. He has the honour of pimping for the vices of
>riore sprightly men, who in return otter some small incense
to his vanity. Upon this encouragement, and to make his
Own mind easy when it is past being pleased, he employs
Himself in justifying those excesses he cannot partake in.
But, to return to your question, those miserable folk are
tnighty men for the minute philosophy.

Euph. What hinders them then from putting an end to
their lives^?

Cri. Their not being persuaded of the truth of what they

' Magna Moralia, 11. 6. minute philoiiOphy, author of (lie

' The reference ia perhaps Id Anima Mundi and other works,

Charles Blount (1634-93), one of whose death was self-inflicted. His

the early representatives of English creed was expounded after hia

lOO ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

profess. Some, indeed, in a fit of despair, do now and

then lay violent hands on themselves. And as the minute
philosophy prevails, we daily see more examples of suicide.
But they bear no proportion to those who would put
end to their lives if they durst. My friend Clinias, wh<
had been one of them, and a philosopher of rank, let m<
into the secret history of their doubts, and fears, an(
irresolute resolutions of making away with themselves
which last he assures me is a frequent topic with men ol
pleasure, when they have drunk themselves into a little
spirit. It was by virtue of this mechanical valour th(
renowned philosopher Hermocrates shot himself througl
the head '. The same thing hath since been practised b]
several others, to the great relief of their friends. Splen-
etic, worried, and frightened out of their wits, they rui
upon their doom with the same courage as a bird runs
into the mouth of a rattle-snake, not because they are boh

to die, but because they are afraid to live. Clinias endea
voured to fortify his irreligion by the discourse and opinioi
of other minute philosophers, who were mutually strengtl^ -
ened in their unbelief by his. After this manner, authori t""^^
working in a circle, they endeavoured to atheize one anothesr — .
But, though he pretended even to a demonstration again^^t
the being of a God, yet he could not inwardly conquer hi_ s
own belief. He fell sick, and acknowledged this truth, ^ s
now a sober man and a good Christian; owns he wa^i-S
never so happy as since he has become such, nor ^m^o
wretched as while he was a minute philosopher. And h^a-C
who has tried both conditions may be allowed a prop^^r
judge of both.

Lys. Truly a fine account of the brightest and brave ^^
men of the age !

Cri. Bright and brave are fine attributes. But 01
curate is of opinion that all you free-thinking rakes
either fools or cowards. Thus he argues : if such a mst^
doth not see his true interest, he wants sense ; if he dotl^;
but dare not pursue it, he wants courage. In this mann^^'^

death by his friend Charles Gildon, solation of the unhappy (173^);

in his Oracles of Reason, which license in morals, and the occa-

appeared in 1695. sional expediency of suicide, ^s

^ In the Philosophical Dissertation vindicated. So also in the Preface

upon Death, composed for the con- to Gildon's Orades of Reason*

THE SECOND DIALOGUE lol

f''<::»m the defect of sense and courage, he deduceth that
"'"l~»oIe species of men, who are so apt to value themselves
iT><)n both those qualities.

-l.ys. As for their courage, they are at all times ready to give
P*"oof of it; and for their understanding, thanks to nature,
't is of a size not to be measured by country parsons.

i8. Euph. But Socrates, who was no country parson,
^•-ispected your men of pleasure were such through ignor-
**^ce.

Lys. Ignorance of what ?

Euph. Of the art of computing. It was his opinion that
'~^»-kes cannot reckon '. And that for want of this skill they
^~*^*-ake wrongjudgments about pleasure, on the right choice
*^^f which their happiness depends.

Lys. I do not understand you.

Euph. Do you grant that sense perceiveth only sensible
*^Viing3?

Lys. I do.

Euph. Sense perceiveth only things present?

Lys. This_ii30 I grant.

Euph. Pfitu^ pleasures, therefore, and pleasures of the
binders tanotng^re not to be judged of by actual sense ?

Lys. They are not.

Euph. Those therefore who judge of pleasure by sense
rnay find themselves mistaken at the foot of the account.

^^ Cum lapidosa chcragra

^1 Fregerit erticnlos veteris ramolia THgi,

^B Turn crasEos transisse dies lucemque paluEtrcm,

^^ Et sibi jam seri vilflm ingemuere reliclam'.

To make a right computation, should you not consider all
the faculties, and all the kinds of pleasure, taking into your
account the future as well as the present, and rating them
all according to their true value ?

Cri. The Epicureans themselves allowed that pleasure
which procures a gteatgi^"paij >, or hinders a greater pleasure,
should be regarded as a pain ; and, that pain which pro-
cures a greater pleasure, or prevents a greater pain, is to
be accounted a pleasure". In order therefore to make

' [Plato in Protag. J— Author. ' Cicero, De Finibiis, I. And

I02 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

a true estimate of pleasure, the great spring of action, and
>'•) V thaTTrom whence the conduct of life takes its bias, we
)^ ought to compute intellectual pleasures and future pleasures,

as well as present and sensible ; we ought to make allow-
ance, in the valuation of each particular pleasure, for all
the pains and evils, for all the disgust, remorse, and shame,
that attend it ; w e ou ght to regard both kind and quantity,
th e sincerity^ the mtenseness. and the duration of pleasures.

[*Let a free-thinker but bethink himself, how little of
human pleasure consists in actual sensation, and how much
in prospect. Let him then compare the prospect of a
virtuous believer with Ihat of an unbelieving rake.]

Euph, And, all these points duly considered, will not
Socrates seem to have had reason on his side, when he
thought ignorance made rakes — and particularly their being
ignorant of what he calls the science of more and less,
greater and smaller, equality and comparison, that is to
say, of the art of computing ?

Lys. All this discourse seems notional. For real abilities
of every kind, it is well known, we have the brightest men
of the age among us. But all those who know the world
do calculate that what you call a good Christian, who-
hath neither a large conscience, nor unprejudiced mind^
must be unfit for the affairs of it. Thus you see, while
you compute yourselves out of pleasure, others compute
you out of business. What then are you good for with all
your computation ?

Euph. I have all imaginable respect for the abilities o
Tree-thinkers. My only fear was, their parts might be to
lively for such sl ow tale nts as fnrprast and romp nfatinn
the gifts of ordinary nieri.

19. Crt, I cannot make them the same compliment th
Euphranor does. For, though I shall not pretend t
characterise the whole sect, yet thus much I may trul;
affirm — that those who have fallen in my way have bee
mostly raw men of pleasure, old sharpers in busines
or a third sort of lazy sciolists, who are neither men

to recognise contrasts in the quality their generic differences.

as well as in the quantity of our ' Added in the author's secon ^

pleasures. J. S. Mill, in his Utili- edition.

iarianisntj insists frequently upon

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 103

business, nor men of speculation, but set up for judges
or critics in all kinds, without having made a progress in
any. These, among men of the world, pass for profound
theorists, and among speculative men would seem to know
the world : a conceited race, equally useless to the affairs ,
and studies of mankind. Such as these, for the most
part, seem to be sectaries of the minute philosophy. I will
not deny that now and then you may meet with a man
of easy manners, that, without those faults and affectations,
is carried into the party by the mere stream of education,
fashion, or company ; all which do in this age prejudice I
men against religion, even those who mechanically rail at 1
prejudice. I must not forget that the minute philosophers '
have also a strong party among the beaux and fine ladies ; }/
and, as affectations out of character are often the strongest,
there is nothing so dogmatical and inconvincible as one
of these fine things, when it sets up for free-thinking. But,
be these professors of the sect never so dogmatical, their
authority must needs be small with men of sense. For
who would choose for his guide, in the search for truth,
a man whose thoughts and time are taken up with dress,
visits, and diversions? or whose education hath been
behind the counter, or in an office ? or whose speculations
have been employed on the forms of business, who is only
well read in^^^the ways and commerce of mankind, in stock-
jobbing, purloining, supplanting, bribing? Or would any
man in his senses give a fig for meditations and discoveries
made over a bottle? And yet it is certain that, instead
of thought, books, and study, most free-thinkers are the
proselytes of a drinking club. Their principles are often
settled, and decisions on the deepest points made, when
they are not fit to make a bargain.

Lys. You forget our writers, Crito. They make a world
of proselytes.

Cri. So would worse writers in such a cause. Alas !
how few read ! and of these, how few are able to judge !
How many wish your notions true! How many had
rather j)e Hivprtf^r^ than instructed ! How many are con-
vinced by a title I 1 may allow your reasons to be effectual,
without allowing them to be good. Arguments, in them-
selves of small weight, have great effect, when they are
recommended by a mistaken interest, when they are

I04 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

pleaded for by passion, when they are countel^anced by the
humour of the age ; and above all, with some sort of men,
when they are against law, government, and established
opinions : things which, as a wise and good man would not
r depart from without clear evidence, a weak or a bad man
V^will affect to disparage on the slightest grounds,
^ Lys. And yet the arguments of our philosophers alarm.

Cri, The force of their reasoning is not what alarms :
their contempt of laws and government is alarming : their
application to the young and ignorant is dangerous.

Euph. But without disputing or disparaging their talent
at ratioc^ation, it seems very possible their success might
not be owing to that alone. May it not in some measure
be ascribed to the defects of others, as well as to their own
perfections? My friend Eucrates used to say, that the
church would thrive and flourish beyond all opposition,
if som^ certain persons minded piety more than politics,
practics than polemics, fundamentals than consectaries,
substance than circumstance, things than notions, and
notions than words.

Lys. Whatever may be the cause, the effects are too
plain to be denied. And when a considering man observes
that our notions do, in this most learned and knowing
age, spread and multiply, in opposition to established laws,
and every day gain ground against a body so numerous,
so learned, so well supported, protected, and encouraged,
for the service and defence of religion : I say, when a man
observes and considers all this, he will be apt to as^ibe it
to the force of truth, and the merits of our cause ; which,
had it been supported with the revenues and establishments
of the church and universities, you may guess what a figure
it would make, by the figure that it makes without them.

Euph. It is much to be pitied that the learned professors
of your sect do not meet with the encouragement they
deserve.

Lys. All in due time. People begin to open their eyes.
It is not impossible but those revenues that in ignorant
times were applied to a wrong use may, hereafter, in a
more enlightened age, be applied to a better.

Cri. But why professors and encouragement for what
needs no teachmg? An acquaintance of mine has a most
ingenious footman that can neither write nor read, who

THE SECOND DIALOGUE IO5

learned your whole system in half an hour : he knows
when and how to nod, shake his head, smile, and give
a hint, as well as the ablest sceptic, and is in fact a very
minute philosopher.

Lys. Pardon me, it takes time to unlearn religious
prejudices, and requires a strong head.

Cri, I do not know how it might have been once upon
a time. But in the present laudable education, I know
several who have been imbued with no religious notions
at all ; and others who have had them so very slight, that
they rubbed off without the least pains. '

20. Panope, young and beautiful, under the care of her
aunt, an admirer of the minute philosophy, was kept from
learning the principles of religion, that she might not be
accustomed to believe without a reason, nor assent to
what she did not comprehend. Panope was not indeed
prejudiced with religious notions, but got a notion of
intriguing, and a notion of play, which ruined her repu-
tation by fourteen, and her fortune by four-and-twenty. — I
have often reflected on the different fate of two brothers
in my neighbourhood. Cleon, the elder, being designed
an accomplished gentleman, was sent to town, and had
the first part of his education in a great school : what
religion he learned there was soon unlearned in a certain
celebrated society, which, till we have a better, may pass
for a nursery of minute philosophers, Cleon dressed well,
could cheat at cards, had a nice palate, understood the
mystery of the die, was a mighty man in the minute
philosophy; and having shined a few years in these accom-
plishments, he died before thirty, childless and rotten,
expressing the utmost indignation that he could not outlive
that old dog his father; who, having a great notion of
polite manners, and knowledge of the world, had pur-
chased them to his favourite son with much expense, but
had been more frugal in the education of Chaerephon, the
younger son; who was brought up at a country school,
and entered a commoner in the university, where he
qualified himself for a parsonage in his father's gift, which
he is now possessed of, together with the estate of the
family, and a numerous offspring.

Lys. A pack of unpolished cubs, I warrant.

Io6 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Cri. Less polished, perhaps, but more sound, more
honest, and more useful, than many who pass for fine
gentlemen. Crates, a worthy justice of the peace in this
country, having had a son miscarry at London, by the
conversation of a minute philosopher, used to say, with
a great air of complaint — If a man spoils my com, or hurts
my cattle, I have a remedy against him ; but if he spoils
my children I have none.

Lys. I warrant you he was for penal methods : he would
have had a law to persecute tender consciences.

Cri, The tender conscience of a minute philosopher!
He who tutored the son of Crates soon after did justice
on himself. For he taught Lycidas, a modest yoimg man,
the principles of his sect. Lycidas, in return, debauched
his daughter, an only child : upon which, Charmides (that
was the minute philosopher's name) hanged himself. Old
Bubalion in the city is carking, starving, and cheating;
that his son may drink, game, and keep mistresses, hounds,
and horses, and die in a jail. Bubalion nevertheless thinks
himself wise, and passeth for one that minds the main
chance. He is a minute philosopher, which learning he
acquired behind the counter, from the works of Prodicus
and Tryphon. This same Bubalion was one night at
supper, talking against the immortality of the soul, with
two or three grave citizens, one of whom the next day
declared himself a bankrupt, with five thousand pounds
of Bubalion's in his hands : and the night following he
received a note from a servant, who had during his lecture
waited at table, demanding the sum of fifty guineas to be
laid under a stbne, and concluding with most terrible
threats and imprdications.

Lys. Not to repeat what hath been already demon-
strated ^ — that the public is at bottom no sufferer by such
accidents, which in truth are inconvenient only to private
persons, who in their turn too may reap the benefit of
them; I say, not to repeat all that hath been demon-
strated on that head, I shall only ask you whether there
would not be rakes and rogues, although we did not make
them ? Believe me, the world always was, and always will
be the same, as long as men are men.

^ Cf. sect. 2.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 107

Cri, I deny that the world is always the same. Human
nature, to use Alciphron's comparison, is like land, better
or worse, as it is improved, and according to the seeds or
principles sown in it. Though nobody hel^ your tenets,
I grant there might be bad men by the force of corrupt
appetites and irregular passions ; but, where men, to the
force of appetite arid passion, add that of opinion, and are
wicked from principle, there will be more men wicked,
and those more incurably and outrageously so. The error
of a lively rake lies in his passions, and may be reformed :
but the dry rogue who sets up for judgment is incorrigible.
It is an observation of Aristotle's, that there are two sorts
of debauchees, the dK/oany?, and the dKoXacTTos, of which
the one is so against his judgment, the other with it ^ ; and
that there may be hopes of the former, but none of the
latter. And in fact I have always observed, that a rake
who is a minute philosopher, when grown old, becomes
a sharper in business.

Lys. I could name you several such who have grown
most noted patriots.

Cri, Patriots! such patriots as Catiline and Mark
Anthony.

Lys. And what then? Those famous Romans were
brave, though unsuccessful. They wanted neither sense
nor courage ; and if their schemes had taken effect, the
brisker part of their countrymen had been much the better
for them.

21. The wheels of government go on, though wound up
by different hands ; if not in the same form, yet in some
other, perhaps a better. There is an endless variety in
nature. Weak men, indeed, are prejudiced towards rules
and systems in life and government ; and think if these
are gone all is gone : but a man of a great soul and free
spirit delights in the noble experiment of blowing up
systems and dissolving governments, to mould them anew
upon other principles and in another shape. Take my
word for it, there is a plastic nature in things that seeks
its own end. Pull a state to pieces, jumble, confound, and
shake together the particles of human society, and then

* See Nicom, Ethics, VII. i ; also Butler in his Sermons,

Io8 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

let them stand a while, and you shall soon see them settle
of themselves in some convenient order, where heaw^
heads are lowest, and men of genius uppermost.

Euph. Lysicles speaks his mind freely.

Lys. Where was the advantage of free-thinking, if it
were not attended with free-speaking ; or of free-speakin^i
if it did not produce free-acting? Wef are for thorougln,
independent, original freedom. Inward freedom withod^t
outward is good for nothing but to set a man's judgmen^^
at variance with his practice.

Cri This free way of Lysicles may seem new to yoii^ •
it is not so to me. As the minute philosophers lay i*
down for a maxim — that there is nothing sac red_of aa3^
jcind, nothing but what may be made a jest of, explocfed ^
and changed like the fashion of their clothes ; so nothia
is more frequent than for them to utter their schemes an
principles, not only in select companies, but even in publi

In a certain part of the world, where ingenious men ai*
wont to retail their speculations, I remember to have see
a valetudinarian in a long wig and a cloak, sitting at th.
upper end of a table, with half a dozen disciples aboL-m^
him. After he had talked about religion, in a manner aii<=l
with an air that would make one think atheism established^
by law, and religion only tolerated, he entered upon ciAril
government ; and observed to his audience, that the natur^iJ
world was in a perpetual circulation. Animals, said h^^
who draw their sustenance from the earth, mix with ths^t
same earth, and in their turn become food for vegetables,
which again nourish the animal kind : the vapours th^Lt
ascend from this globe descend back upon it in showers ;
the elements alternately prey upon each other : that which
one part of nature loseth another gains ; the sum tot^l
remaining always the same, being neither bigger nor
lesser, better nor worse, for all these intestine changes.
Even so, said this learned professor, the revolutions iJi
the civil world are no detriment to human-kind ; one part
whereof rises as the other falls, and wins by another's
loss. A man therefore who thinks deeply, and hath an
eye on the whole system, is no more a bigot to govern-
ment than to religion. He knows how to suit himself
to occasions, and make the best of every event : for the
rest, he looks on all translations of power and property

THE SECOND DIALOGUE IO9

from one hand to another .with a philosophic indifference.
Our lecturer concluded his discourse with a most ingenious
analysis of all political and moral virtues into their first
principles and causes, shewing them to be mere fashions,
tricks of state, and illusions on the vulgar.

Lys. We have been often told of the good effects of
religion and learning, churches and universities: but
I dare afiirm that a dozen or two ingenious men of our
sect have done more towards advancing real knowledge,
by extemporaneous lectures, in the compass of a few
years, than all the ecclesiastics put together for as many
centuries.

Euph. And the nation no doubt thrives accordingly ; but
it seems, Crito, you have heard them discourse.

Cri, Upon hearing this, and other lectures of the same
tendency, methought it was needless to establish pro-
fessors for the minute philosophy in either university;
while there are so many spontaneous lecturers in every
corner of the streets, ready to open men's eyes, and
rub off their prejudices about religion, loyalty, and public
spirit.

Lys, If wishing was to any purpose, I could wish for
a telescope that might draw into my view things future
in time, as well as distant in place. Oh! that I could
but look into the next age, and behold what it is that
we are preparing to be, the glorious harvest of our
principles : the spreading of which hath produced a visible
tendency in the nation towards something great and
new.

Cri. One thing I dare say you would expect to see, be
the changes and agitations of the public what they will,
that is, every free-thinker upon his legs. You are all
sons of nature, who cheerfully follow the fortunes of the
common mass.

Lys. And it must be owned we have a maxim — that each
should take care of one,

Cri, Alas, Lysicles, you wrong your own character.
You would feign pass upon the world, and upon your-
selves, for interested cunning men : but can anything be
more disinterested than to sacrifice all regards to the
abstracted speculation of truth? Or can anything be
more void of all cunning than to publish your discoveries

no ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

to the world, teach others to play the whole game, and arm
mankind against yourselves ?

22. If a man may venture to suggest so mean a thought
as the love of their country to souls fired with the love
of truth, and the love of liberty, and grasping the whole
extent of nature; I would humbly propose it to you,
gentlemen, to observe the caution practised by all other
discoverers, projectors, and makers of experiments, who
never hazard all on the first trial. Would it not be
prudent to try the success of your principles on a small
model in some remote corner? For instance, set up
a colony of atheists in Monomotapa, and see how it
prospers, before you proceed any farther at home: half
a dozen ship-loads of minute philosophers might easily
be spared upon so good a design. In the meantime, you
gentlemen, who have found out that there is nothing to
be hoped or feared in another life, that conscience is
a bug-bear, that the bands of government and the cement
of human society are rotten things, to be resolved and
crumbled into nothing by the argumentation of every
minute philosopher: be so good as to keep these sublime
discoveries to yourselves: suffer us, our wives, our
children, our servants, and our neighbours, to continue
in the belief and way of thinking established by the laws
of our country. In good earnest, I wish you would go try
your experiments among the Hottentots or Turks.

Lys. The Hottentots we think well of, believing them
to be an unprejudiced people : but it is to be feared their
diet and customs would not agree with our philosophers.
As for the Turks, they are bigots, who have a notion of
God, and a respect for Jesus Christ ; I question whether
it might be safe to venture among them.

Cri. Make your experiment then in some other part of
Christendom.

Lys. We hold all other Christian nations to be much
under the power of prejudice : even our neighbours the
Dutch are too much prejudiced in favour of their religion
by law established for a prudent man to attempt innova-
tions under their government. Upon the whole, it seems
we can execute our schemes nowhere with so much
security and such prospect of success as at home. Not

THE SECOND DIALOGUE III

'f> say that we have already made a good progress. Oh I
'f^ ^t we could but once see a parliament of true, staunch,
lit>crtine free-thinkers !

Cri. God forbid ! I should be sorry to have such men
for- my servants, not to say, for my masters.

U,ys. In that we differ.

S3. But you will agree with me that the right way to
come at this was to begin with extirpating the prejudices
»f particular persons. We have carried on this work for
iriany years with much art and industry, and at first with
secrecy, working like moles under ground, concealing our
pt-ogress from the pubhc, and our ultimate views from
iiany, even of our own proselytes, blowing the coals
t>^;tween polemical divines, laying hold on and improving
^v-cry incident which the passions and folly of churchmen
aflforded to the advantage of our sect. As our principles
obtained, we still proceeded to farther inferences; and as
'^Ur numbers multiplied, we gradually disclosed ourselves
arid our opinions : where we are now I need not say. We
f^ave stubbed, and weeded, and cleared human nature to
that degree that, in a little time, leaving it alone without
^»^y labouring or teaching, you shall see natural and just
'deas sprout forth of themselves.

Cri. But I have heard a man, who had lived long and
observed much, remark, that the worst and most tmwhole-
sorne weed was this same minute philosophy. We have
"ad, said he, divers epidemical distempers in the state, but
*his hath produced of all others the most destructive
Prague. Enthusiasm had its day, its effects were violent
and soon over; this infects more quietly, but spreads
Widely ; the former bred a fever in the state ; this breeds
^ "Consumption and final decay, A rebellion or an invasion
^'arms, and puts the public upon its defence ; but a corrup-
'""1 of principles works its ruin more slowly perhaps, but
"'Ore surely.

. This may be illustrated by a fable I somewhere met with
'".the writings of a Swiss philosopher, setting forth the
"f'ginal of brandy and gunpowder. The government of
"^ north being once upon a time vacant, the prince of the
P*Wer of the air convened a council in heii, wherein, upon
^'"^petition between two demons of rank, it was deter-

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

mined they should both make trial of their abilities, and
he should succeed who did most mischief. One made his
appearance in the shape of gunpowder, the other in that
of brandy : the former was a declared enemy, and roared
with a terrible noise, which made folks afraid, and put
them on their guard; the other passed as a friend and
a physician through the world, disguised himself with
sweets, and perfumes, and drugs, made his way into the
ladies' cabinets and the apothecaries' shops, and, under
the notion of helping digestion, comforting the spirits, and
cheering the heart, produced direct contrary effects; and,
having insensibly thrown great numbers of human-kind
into a lingering but fatal decay, was found to people hell
and the grave so fast as to merit the government which he
still E

24. Lvs. Those who please may amuse themselves with
fables and allegories. This is plain English : — liberty is
a good thing, and we are the support of liberty.

Cri. To me it seems that liberty and virtue were made
for each other. If any man wish to enslave his countr)',
nothing is a fitter preparative than vice ; and nothing leads
to vice so surely as irreligion. For my part, I cannot
comprehend or find out, after having considered it in all
lights, how this crying down religion should be the effect
of honest views towards a just and legal liberty. Some
seem to propose an indulgence in vice; others may have
in prospect the advantage which needy and ambitious men
are used to make in the ruin of a. state. One may indulge
a pert petulant spirit ; another hope to be esteemed among
libertines, when he wants wit to please, or abilities to be
useful. But, be men's views what they will, let us examine
what good your principles have done : who has been the
better for the instructions of these minute philosophers?
Let us compare what we are in respect of learning, loyalty,
honesty, wealth, power, and public spirit, with what we
have been. Free-thinking (as it is called) hath wonderiully
grown of late years. Let us see what hath grown up with
it, or what effects it hath produced. To make a catalogue
of ills is disagreeable ; and the only blessing it can pretend
to is luxury : that same blessing which revenged the world
upon old Rome; that same luxury that makes a nation.

THE SECOND DIALOGUE 113

like a diseased pampered body, look full and fat with one
foot in the grave.

Lys. You mistake the matter. There are no people who
think and argue better about the public good of a state
than our sect; who have also invented many things
tending to that end which we cannot as yet conveniently
put in practice.

Cri. But one point there is from which it must be owned
the public hath already received some advantage, which
is the effect of your principles, flowing from them, and
spreading as they do: I mean that old Roman practice
of self-murder, which at once puts an end to all distress,
ridding the world and themselves of the miserable.

Lys. You were pleased before to make some reflexions
on this custom, and laugh at the irresolution of our free-
thinkers : but 1 can aver for matter of fact that they have
often recommended it by their example as well as argu-
ments ' ; and that it is solely owing to them that a practice,
so useful and magnanimous, hath been taken out of the
hands of lunatics, and restored to that credit among men
of sense which it anciently had. In whatever light you
may consider it, this is in fact a solid benefit. But the
best effect of our principles is that light and truth so
visibly shed abroad in the world. From how many pre-
judices, errors, perplexities, and contradictions have we
freed the minds of our fellow-subjects ! How many hard
words and intricate absurd notions had possessed the
minds of men before our philosophers appeared in the
world ! But now even women and children have right
and sound notions of things. What say you to this,
Crito ?

Cri. I say, with respect to these great advantages of
destroying men and notions, that I question whether the
public gains as much by the latter as it loseth by the
former. For my own part, I had rather my wife and
children all believed what they had no notion of, and
dally pronounced words without a meaning, than that
any one of them should cut his throat, or leap out of
a window. Errors and nonsense, as such, are of small
concern in the eyes of the public ; which considers not

' e. g. in the PMosofihy 0/ Death.

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHri.OSOPHER

the metaphysical truth of notions, so much as the tendency
they have to produce good or evil. Truth itself is valued
by the public, as it hath an influence, and is felt in the
course of life. You may confute a whole shelf of school-
men, and discover many speculative truths, without any
great merit towards your country. But if I am not mis-
taken, the minute philosophers are not the men to whom
we are most beholden for discoveries of that kind : this
I say must be allowed, supposing, what I by no means
grant, your notions to be true. For, to say plainly what
I think, the tendency of your opinions is so bad that
no good man can endure them, and your arguments for
them so weak that no wise man will admit them.

Lys. Has it not been proved as clear as the meridian
sun that the politer sort of men lead much happier lives,
and swim in pleasure, since the spreading of our principles?
But, not to repeat or insist further on what has been so
an^Iy deduced, I shall only add that the advantages flow-
ing from them extend to the tenderest age and the softer
sex : our principles deliver children from terrors by night,
and ladies from splenetic hours by day.

Cri. [' Instead of these old-fashioned things, prayers
and the Bible, the grateftil amusements of drams, dice,
and billet-doux have succeeded. The fair sex have now
nothing to do but dress and paint, drink and game, adorn
and divert themselves, and enter into all the sweet society
of life.J I thought, Lysicles, the argument from pleasure
had been exhausted. But, since you have not done with
that point, let us once more, by Euphranor's rule, cast up
the account of pleasure and pain, as credit and debt, under
distinct articles. We will set down in the life of your
fine lady rich clothes, dice, cordials, scandal, late hours,
against vapours, distaste, remorse, losses at play, and
the terrible distress of ill-spent age increasing every day;
suppose no cruel accident of jealousy, no madness or
infamy of love, yet, at the foot of the account, you shall
find that empty, giddy, gaudy, fluttering thing, not half so
happy as a butterfly or a grasshopper on a summer's day.
And for a rake or man of pleasure, the reckoning will be

' The sentences within brackets to this of Crito in the author's tlurd
were transferred from the close of edition, to be read ironically,
the preceding speech of Lysicles

a ironically, ^_

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

much the same, if you place listlessness, ignorance, rotten-
ness, loathing, craving quarrelHng, and such qualities or
accomplishments, over against his little circle of fleeting
amusements— long woe against momentary pleasure ; and
if it be considered that, when sense and appetite go oft,
though he seek refuge from his conscience in the minute
philosophy, yet in this you will find, if you sift him to the
bottom, that he affects much, believes little, knows nothing.

Upon which, Lyskles, turning to me, observed, that
Crito might dispute against fact if he pleased, but that
every one must see the nation was the merrier for their
principles.

True, answered Crito, we are a merry nation indeed ;
young men laugh at the old; children despise their
parents; and subjects make a jest of the government:
nappy effects of the minute philosophy !

25. Lys. Infer what effects you please: that will not
make our principles less true,

Cri. Their tnilh is not what I am now considering.
The point at present is the usefMlness of your principles.
And to decide this point we need only take a short view of
them fairly proposed and laid together: — that there is no
God or providence : that man is as the beasts that perish :
that his happiness as theirs consists in obeying animal in-
stincts, appetites, and passions : that all stings of conscience
and sense of guilt are prejudices and errors of education :
that religion is a state trick : that vice is beneficial to the

fiublic: that the soul of man is corporeal, and dissolveth
ike a flame or vapour : that man is a machine actuated
according lo the laws of motion ; that consequently he is
no agent, or subject of guilt: that a wise man will make
his own particular individual interest in this present life
the rule and measure of all his actions ;— these, and such
opinions, are, it seems, the tenets of a minute philosopher,
who is himself, according to his own principles, an organ
played on by sensible objects, a ball bandied about by
appetites and passions : so subtle is he as to be able
to maintain all this by artful reasonings ; so sharp-sighted
and penetrating to the very bottom of things as to find out
that the most interested occult cunning is the only true
wisdom. To complete his character, this curious piece

Il6 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

of clock-work, having no principle of action within itself,
and denying that it hath or can have any one free thought
^,' i or motion, sets up for the patron of liberty, and earnestly
contends for free-thinking.

Crito had no sooner made an end but Ly sides addressed
himself to Euphranor and me — Crito, said he, has taken
a world of pains, but convinced me only of one single
point, to wit, that I must despair of convincing him.
Never did I in the whole course of my life meet with
a man so deeply immersed in prejudice; let who will
pull him out for me. But I entertain better hopes of you.

I can answer, said I, for myself, that my eyes and ears
are always open to conviction : I am attentive to all that
passes, and upon the whole shall form, whether right or
wrong, a very impartial judgment.

Crito, said Euphranor, is a more enterprising man than
I, thus to rate and lecture a philosopher. For my part,
I always find it easier to learn than to teach. I shall
therefore beg your assistance to rid me of some scruples
about the tendency of your opinions ; which I find myself
unable to master, though never so willing. This done,
though we should not tread exactly in the same steps, nor
perhaps go the same road, yet we shall not run in all points
diametrically opposite one to another.

26. Tell me now, Lysicles, you who are a minute
observer of things, whether a shade be more agreeable
at morning, or evening, or noon-day ?

Lys, Doubtless at noon-day.

Euph, And what disposeth men to rest ?

Lys, Exercise.

Euph, When do men make the greatest fires ?

Lys. In the coldest weather.

Euph. And what creates a love for icy liquors ?

Lys. Excessive heat.

Euph. What if you raise a pendulum to a great height
on one side ?

Lys. It will, when left to itself, ascend so much the
higher on the other.

Euph. It should seem, therefore, that darkness ensues
from light, rest from motion, heat from cold, and in general
that one extreme is the consequence of another ?

THE SECOND DIALOGUE II7

Lvs. It shouid seem so.

Eiipli. And doth not this observation hold in the civil as
well as natural world ? Doth not power produce licence,
and licence power ? Do not whigs make lories, and tories
whigs. Bigots make atheists, and atheists bigots ' ?

Lys, Granting this to be true.

Euph. Will it not hence follow that as we abhor slavish
principles we should avoid running into licentious ones ?
1 am and always was a sincere lover of liberty, legal
English liberty; which I esteem a chief blessing, orna-
ment, and comfort of life, and the great prerogative of
an Englishman. But is it not to be feared that, upon the
nation's running into a licentiousness which hath never
been endured m any civilised country, men feeling the
intolerable evils of one extreme may naturally fall into
'' e other? You must allow the bulk of mankind are not

lilosophers, like you and Alciphron.

Lvs. This I readily acknowledge.

£uph. I have another scruple about the tendency of
your opinions. Suppose you should prevail, and destroy
this protestant church and clergy : how could you come
at the popish ? I am credibly informed there is a great
number of emissaries of the church of Rome disguised in
England : who can tell what harvest a clergy so numerous,
so subtle, and so well furnished v/ith arguments to work
on vulgar and uneducated minds, may be able to make in
a country despoiled of all religion, and feeling the want of
it? Who can tell whether the spirit of free-thinking
ending with the opposition, and the vanity with the distinc-
tion, when the whole nation are alike infidels ; who can
tell, i say, whether in such a juncture the men of genius
themselves may not affect a new distinction, and be the
first converts to popery?

Lys. And suppose they should. Between friends it
would be no great matter. These are our maxims. In
the first place, we hold it would be best to have no religion
at all. Secondly, we hold that ail religions are indifferent.
li, therefore, upon trial, we find the country cannot do
without a religion, why not popery as well as another?
I know several ingenious men of our sect, who, if we had

Il8 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

a popish prince on the throne, would turn papists to-
morrow. This is a paradox, but I shall explain it. A
prince whom we compliment with our religion, to be sure
must be grateful.

Euph, I understand you. But what becomes of free-
thinking all the while ?

Lys. Oh 1 we should have more than ever of that, for
we should keep it all to ourselves. As for the amusement
of retailing it, the want of this would be largely com-
pensated by solid advantages of another kind.

Euph, It seems then, by this account, the tendency you
observed in the nation towards something great and new
proves a tendency towards popery and slavery.

Lys. Mistake us not, good Euphranor. The thing first
in our intention is consummate liberty : but, if this will not
do, and there must after all be such things tolerated as
religion and government, we are wisely willing to make
the best of both.

Cri, This puts me in mind of a thought I have often
had — that minute philosophers are dupes of the Jesuits.
The two most avowed, professed, busy, propagators of
infidelity, in all companies, and upon all occasions, that
I ever met with, were both bigoted papists; and, being
both men of considerable estates, suffered considerably on
that score ; which it is wonderful their thinking disciples
should never reflect upon. Hegemon, a most distinguished
writer among the minute philosophers, and hero of the
sect, I am well assured, was once a papist, and never
heard that he professed any other religion. I know that
many of the church of Rome abroad are pleased with the
growth of infidelity among us, as hoping it may make way
for them. The emissaries of Rome are known to have
personated several other sects, which from time to time
have sprung up amongst us ; and why not this of the
minute philosophers, of all others the best calculated to
ruin both church and state? I myself have known
a Jesuit abroad talk among English gentlemen like a free-
thinker. I am credibly informed that Jesuits, known to
be such by the minute philosophers at home, are admitted
into their clubs, and I have observed them to approve,
and speak better of the Jesuits; than of any other clergy
whatsoever. Those who are not acquainted with the

THE SECOND DIALOGUE lig

iUbtle spirit, the refined politics, and wonderful economy,

of that renowned society, need only read the account
piven of them by the Jesuit Inchofer, in his book De
Monorchia SoHpsonim ; and those who are will not be
surprised they should be able to make dupes of our
minute philosophers : dupes, I say, for I can never think
they suspect they are only tools to serve the ends of
cunninger men than themselves. They seem to me drunk
and giddy with a false notion of liberty, and spurred on by
this principle to make mad experiments on their country;
they agree only in pulling down all that stands in their
way ; without any concerted scheme, and without caring
or knowing what to erect in its stead. To hear them,
as I have often done, descant on the moral virtues, resolve
them into shame, then laugh at shame as a weakness,
admire the unconfined lives of savages ', despise all order
and decency of education — one would think the intention
of these philosophers was, when they had pruned and
weeded the notions of their fellow-subjects, and divested
them of their prejudices, to strip them of their clothes, and
fill the country with naked followers of nature, enjoying all
the privileges of brutality.

Here Crito made a pause, and fixed his eyes on Alci-
phron, who during this whole conversation had sat
thoughtful and attentive, without saying a word ; and
with an air one while dissatisfied at what Lysicles ad-
vanced, another serene and pleased, seeming to approve
some better thought of his own. But the day being now
far spent, Alciphron proposed to adjourn the argument till
the following ; when, said he, I shall set matters on a new
foundation, and in so full and clear a light, as, I doubt not,
will give entire satisfaction'. So we changed the discourse,
and after a repast upon cold provisions, took a walk on
the strand, and in the cool of the evening returned to
Crito's.

' Cf. Berkeley's Discourse ad-
dnsstd lo Magistmles, sect ai.

' The preceding Dialogue makes
Lysicles fail lo prove, that free
indulgence of the animal appetites
is the true way to promote the
idilic good, regard lor which is

taken to constitute right conduct,
Aiciphrott accordingly promises

new foundation,' superior to the
objections which were fatal lo the
paradoxical hypothesis of Lysicles.

THE THIRD DIALOGUES

I. Alciphron's account of honour. 2. Character and conduct of men of
honour. 3. Sense of moral beauty. 4. The honestum or rd tcaXSv
of the ancients. 5. Taste for moral beauty — whether a sure guide or
rule. 6. Minute philosophers ravished with the abstract beauty of
virtue. 7. Their virtue alone disinterested and heroic. 8. Beauty
of sensible objects — what, and how perceived. 9. The idea of beauty
explained by painting and architecture. 10. Beauty of the moral
S3^tem, wherein it consists. 11. It supposeth a Providence. la.
Influence of rd KaX6v and rd vpiwov, 13. Enthusiasm of Cratylus com-
pared with the sentiments of Aristotle. 14. Compared with the
Stoical principles. 15. Minute philosophers, their talent for raillery
and ridicule. 16. The wisdom of those who make virtue alone its
own reward.

I. The following day, as we sat round the tea-table, in
a summer parlour which looks into the garden, Alciphron
after the first dish turned down his cup, and, reclining
back on his chair, proceeded as follows — Above all the
sects upon earth, it is the peculiar privilege of ours, not to
be tied down by any principles. While omer philosophers
profess a servile adherence to certain tenets, ours assert
a noble freedom, differing not only one from another, but

* The Second Dialogue having
exposed the hypothesis of the utility
of vice, the Third is meant to shew
the insufficiency of taste, or a sen se
of the_abstrflct beauty- of virtue, for
practical morals and regulating the
actions gf men : the need for faith
in the omnipresence" and moral
government of God, in this and in
a future life, is accordingly sug-
gested.

This Dialogue discusses the
ethical theory of the third Earl of
Shaftesbury (1671-1713), the pupil,

and afterwards the critic, of Locke,
who is alleged to make a sense oif
the beauty of a constant regard for
the public good the foundation of
virtuous conduct ; independently of
the endless penalties which he as-
sociates with the popular religion.
Shaftesbury's Characteristics should
be compared with this Dialogue,
which is hardly fair to the ethical
merit and elevated theism of a
philosopher who was admired by
Leibniz, and followed by Francis
Hutcheson.

THE THIRD DIALOGUK I2I

very often the same man from himself. Which method of
proceeding, beside other advantages, hath this annexed to
If. that we are of all men the hardest to confute. You
may, perhaps, confute a particular tenet, but then this
affects only him who maintains it, and so long only as
he maintains it. Some of our sect dogmatize more than
others, and in some more than other points. The doctrine
of the usefulness of vice is a point wherein we are not all
^eed. Some of us are great admirers of virtue. With
others the points of vice and virtue are problematical,
'or my part, though I think the doctrine maintained
yesterday by Lysicles an ingenious speculation ; yet upon
"■e whole, there are divers reasons which incline me to
•jepart from it, and rather to espouse the virtuous side of
"le question ; with the smallest, perhaps, but the most
™ntemplative and laudable part of our sect. It seemeth,
'say, after a nice inquiry and balancing on both sides,
that we ought to prefer virtue to vice ; and that such pre-
'^rence would contribute both to the public weal, and the
•"^Putation of our philosophers.

You are to know then, we have among us several
'hat, without one grain of religion, are men of the nicest
honour, and therefore men of virtue because men of
■lonour. Honour is a noble unpolluted source of virtue,
Y'lthout the least mixture of fear, interest, or superstition.
*t hath all the advantages without the evils which attend
Religion. It is the mark of a great and fine soul, and is
^"^ be found among persons of rank and breeding. It
Effects the court, the senate, and the camp, and in general
eveiy rendezvous of people of fashion.

Euph. You say then that honour is the source of virtue?
Ale. I do.

Euph. Can a thing be the source of itself?
Ale. It cannot.

Eupli. The source, therefore, is distinguished from that
of which it is the source?
Ale. Doubtless.

Euph. Honour then is one thing, and virtue another?
Ale. I grant it. Virtuous actions are the effect, and
honour is the source or cause of that effect.

Euph. Tell me. Is honour the will producing those
actions, or the final cause for which they are produced;

122 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

or right reason which is their rule and limit, or the object
about which they are conversant? Or do you by the
word honour understand a faculty or appetite ? all which
are supposed, in one sense or other, to be the source of
human actions.

Ale. Nothing of all this.

Euph. Be pleased then to give me some notion or de-
finition of it. — AlciphroHf having mused a while, answered,
that he defined honour to be a principle of virtuous
actions.

To which Euphranor replied : — If I understand it rightly,
the word principle is variously taken. Sometimes by prin-
ciples we mean the parts of which a whole is composed,
and into which it may be resolved. Thus the elements
are said to be principles of compound bodies. And thus
words, syllables, and letters are the principles of speech.
Sometimes by principle we mean a small particular seed,
the growth or gradual unfolding of which doth produce an
organised body, animal or vegetable, in its proper size and
shape. Principles at other times are supposed to be certain
fundamental theorems in arts and sciences, in religion and
politics. Let me know in which of these senses, or whether
it be in some other sense, that you understand this word,
when you say — honour is a principle of virtue.

To this Alciphron replied, that for his part he meant it in
none of those senses, but defined honour to be a certain
ardour or enthusiasm that glowed in the breast of a gallant
man.

Upon this, Euphranor observed, it was always admitted
to put the definition in place of the thing defined. Is this
allowed, said he, or not ?

Ale. It is.

Euph. May we not therefore say, that a man of honour
is a warm man, or an enthusiast ?

Aleiphron, hearing this, declared that such exactness
was to no purpose ; that pedants, indeed, may dispute and
define, but could never reach that high sense of honour
which distinguished the fine gentleman, and was a thing
rather to be felt than explained.

2. CritOy perceiving that Alciphron could not bear being
pressed any farther on that article, and willing to give

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

123

r some satisfaction to Euphranor, said that of himself indeed
"E should not undertake to explain so nice a point, but he
Boiild retail to them part of a conversation he once heard
oeftveen Nicander a minute philosopher and Menecles a
'-'""istian, upon the same subject, which was for substance
3s follows ;—

M. From what principle are you gentlemen virtuous?
A', From honour. We are men of honour.
M. May not a man of honour debauch another's
"wife, or get drunk, or sell a vote, or refuse to pay his
debts, without lessening or tainting his honour?

N. He may have the vices and faults of a gentle-
man ; but is obliged to pay debts of honour, that is,
al! such as are contracted by play-

M, Is not your man of honour always ready to
resent affronts and engage in duels?

N, He is ready to demand and give gentleman's
satisfaction upon all proper occasions.

M. It should seem, by this account, that to ruin
tradesmen, break faith to one's own wife, corrupt
another man's, take bribes, cheat the public, cut a
man's throat for a word, arc a!l points consistent with
your principle of honour.

N. It cannot be denied that we are men of gallantry,
men of fire, men who know the world, and all that.

M. It seems therefore that honour among infidels
is like honesty among pirates— something confined
to themselves, and which the fraternity perhaps may
find their account in, but every one else should be
constantly on his guard against.
^■y this dialogue, continued Crito, a man who lives out of
'■^e grand moiule may be enabled to form some notion
of what the world calls honour, and men of honour.

Enph. 1 must entreat you not to put me off with
Nicander's opinion, whom I know nothing of, but rather
^ve me your own judgment, drawn from your own observa-
tjon upon men of honour.

Cri. If I must pronounce, I can very sincerely assure
you that, by all 1 have heard or seen, I could never find
that honour, considered as a principle distinct from con-
science, religion, reason, and virtue, was more than an
empty name. And I do verily believe that those who build

124 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

upon that notion have less virtue than other men; and
that what they have, or seem to have, is owing to fashion
(being of the reputable kind), if not to a conscience early
imbued with religious principles, and afterwards retaining
a tincture from them without knowing it These two
principles seem to account for all that looks like virtue in
those ffentlemen. Your men of fashion, in whom ^mal
life abounds, a sort of bullies in morality, who diSa^n to
have it thought they are afraid of conscience — these dei^t
much upon honour, and affect to be called men of honour,
rather than conscientious or honest men. But, by all that
I could ever observe, this specious character, where there
is nothing of conscience or religion underneath, to give
it life and substance, is no better than a meteor or painted
cloud.

Euph. I had a confused notion that honour was some-
thing connected with truth ; and that men of honour were
the greatest enemies to all hypocrisy, fallacy, and disguise*

Cn*. So far from that, an infidel, who sets up for the
nicest honour, shall, without the least grain of faith or
religion, pretend himself a Christian, take any test, join in.
any act of worship, kneel, pray, receive the sacrament,
to serve an interest \ The same person, without an}r
impeachment of his honour, shall most solemnly declare
and promise, in the face of God and the world, that he wilL
love his wife, and forsaking all others keep only to her^
when at the same time it is certain he intends never i(P
perform one tittle of his vow ; and convinceth the whole
world of this as soon as he gets her in his power, and her
fortune, for the sake of which this man of untainted honour
makes no scruple to cheat and lie.

Euph, We have a notion here in the country that it was
of all things most odious, and a matter of much risk and
hazard, to give the lie to a man of honour.

Cri. It is very true. He abhors to take the lie, but not
to tell it.

3. '^AlciphroHf having heard all this with great com-
posure of mind and countenance, spake as follows:—

* Cf. Dial. I. sect. 12. Shaftesbury as Shaftesbury was

^ Alciphron here personates conceived by Berkeley.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

125

['The word Free-thinker, as it comprehends men of very

different sorts of sentiments, cannot in a strict sense, be said

lo constitute one particular sect, holding a certain system of

positive and distinct opinions. Though it must be owned

""^ do ail agree in certain points of unbelief, or negative \

principles, which agreement, in some sense, unites us under 1

"le common idea of one sect. But then those negative

principles as they happen to take root in men of different

^e, temper, and education, do produce various tendencies,

opinions, and characters, widely differing one from another.]

^ou are not to think that our greatest strength lies in our

greatest number— libertines, and mere men of honour.

^o : we have among us philosophers of a very different

character — men of curious contemplation, not governed by

s^ich gross things as sense and custom, but of an abstracted

virtue and sublime morals : and the less religious the more

virtuous. For virtue of the high and disinterested kind

f^o man is so well qualified as an infidel ; it being a mean

and selfish thing to be virtuous through fear or hope.

Tf^e notion of a Providence, and future stale of rewards

aiti punishments, may indeed tempt or scare men of abject

spirit into practices contrary to the natural bent of their

^ulsj but will never produce a true and genuine virtue.

To go to the bottom of things, to analyse virtue into its_

fi""®! principles, and fix a scheme of duty on its true basis, 1'

PU must understand that there is an idea of Beauty |'

"^tiiral to the mind of man. This all men desire, this they '.

^'"e pleased and delighted with for its own sake, purely"

from an instinct of nature. A man needs no arguments

"* make him discern and approve what is beautiful; it

strikes at first sight, and attracts without a reason. And

as this beauty is found in the shape and form of corporeal

flings ; so also is there analogous to it a beauty of another

kind— an order, a symmetry, and comeliness, in the moral

World. And as the eye perceiveth the one, so the mind

doth, by a certain interior sense-, perceive the other;

which sense, talent, or faculty is ever quickest and purest

in the noblest minds. Thus, as by sight I discern the

beauty of a plant or an animal, even so the mind appre-

126 ALCTPimON OR THE MINISTE PHILOSOPHER ^H

hends the moral excellence, the beauty, and decorum of
justice and temperance. And as we readily pronounce
a dress becoming, or an attitude graceful, we can, with the
same free untutored judgment, at once declare whether
this or that conduct or action be comely and beautifui.
To relish this kind of beauty there must be a delicate and
fine taste ; but, where there is this natural taste, nothinff
further is wanting, either as a principle to convince, or
as a motive to induce men to the love of virtue. And
more or less there is of this taste or sense in every creature
that hath reason. All rational beings are by nature social.
They are drawn one towards another by natural affections.
They unite and incorporate into families, clubs, parties,
and commonwealths by mutual sjTnpathy. As, by means
of the sensitive soul, our several distinct parts and members
do consent towards the animal functions, and are con-
nected in one whole ; even so, the several parts of these
rational systems or bodies politic, by virtue of this moral
or interior sense, are held together, have a fellow feeling,
do succour and protect each other, and jointly co-operate
towards the same end. Hence that joy in society, that
propension towards doing good to our kind, that gratula-
tion and delight in beholding the virtuous deeds of other
men, or in reflecting on our own. By contemplation of
the fitness and order of the parts of a moral system,
regularly operating, and knit together by benevolent affec-
tions, the mind of man attaineth to the highest notion
of beauty, excellence, and perfection. Seized and rapt
with this sublime idea, our philosophers do infinitely
despise and pity whoever shall propose or accept any
other motive to virtue. Interest is a mean ungenerous
thing, destroying the merit of virtue ; and falsehood of
every kind is inconsistent with the genuine spirit of
philosophy,

Cri. The love therefore that you bear to moral beauty,
and your passion for abstracted truth, will not suffer you
to think with patience of those fraudulent impositions upon
mankind^ Providence, the Immortality of the Soul, and
a future Retribution of rewards and punishments ; which,
under the notion of promoting, do, it seems, destroy all
tnre virtue, and at the same time contradict and disparage
your noble theories, manifestly tending to the perturbation

THE THIRD DIALOGUE 127

and disquiet of men's minds, and filling them with fruitless
hopes and vain terrors ^

j41c. Men's first thoughts and natural notions are the
best in moral matters. And there is no need that mankind
should be preached, or reasoned, or frightened into virtue,
a thing so natural and congenial to every human soul.
Now, if this be the case, as it certainly is, it follows that
all the ends of society are secured without Religion, and
that an infidel bids fair to be the most virtuous man, in
a true, sublime, and heroic sense,

4. Euph. O Alciphron, while you talk, I feel an affection
in my soul like the trembling of one lute upon striking
the unison strings of another. Doubtless there is a beauty
of the mind, a charm in virtue, a symmetry and proportion
in the moral world. This moral beauty was known to the
ancients by the name of honestum, or t6 koKqu ^. And, in
order to know its force and influence, it may not be amiss
to inquire, what it was understood to be, and what light
it was placed in, by those who first considered it, and
gave it a name, t6 icaXw, according to Aristotle, is the
€nauf€T6v or laudabk ; according to Plato, it is the itbv or
a(p€\t/jiov, pleasant or profitable, which is meant with respect
to a reasonable mind and its true interest. Now, I would
feign know whether a mind which considers an action as
laudable be not carried beyond the bare action itself, to
regard the opinion of others concerning it ?

Ale. It is,

Euph. And whether this be a sufficient ground or
principle of virtue, for a man to act upon, when he
thinks himself removed from the eye and observation
of every other intelligent being?

Ale. It seems not,

Euph. Again : I ask whether a man who doth a thing
pleasant or profitable, as such, might not be supposed
to forbear doing it, or even to do the contrary, upon the
prospect of greater pleasure or profit ?

Ale. He might.

* Not all of the free-thinking * * The beautiful * (to koXov), re-
party disowned immortality, and garded ethically, is characteristic
professed to follow virtue only on of Greek morality, with its fine
account of its abstract beauty. artistic feeling.

128 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph, Doth it not follow from hence that the beaiity
of virtue, or ro icaXrfi/, in either Aristotle's or Plato's sense,
is not a sufficient principle or ground to engage sensual
and worldly-minded men in the practice of it ?

Ale. What then ? ^

Euph. Why then it will follow that hope of reward and
fear of punishment are highly expedient to cast the balance
of pleasant and profitable on the side of virtue, and there-
by very much conduce to the benefit of human society.

Alctphron upon this appealed : — Gentlemen, said he, you
are witnesses of this unfair proceeding of Euphf anor, who
argues against us from explications given by Plato and
Aristotle of the beauty of virtue, which are things we have
nothing to say to ; the philosophers of our sect abstract-
ing from all praise, pleasure, and interest, when they are
enamoured and transported with that sublime idea.

I beg pardon, replied Euphranor, for supposing the
minute philosophers of our days think like those ancient
sages. But you must tell me, Alciphron, since you do not
think fit to adopt the sense of Plato or Aristotle, what
sense it is in which you understand the beauty of virtue-
Define it, explain it, make me to understand your meanings
that so we may argue about the same thing, without whici
we can never come to a conclusion.

5. Ale. Some things are better understood by definitions
and descriptions ; but I have always observed that those^
who would define, explain, and dispute about this point-
make the least of it. Moral beauty is of so peculiar anA
abstracted a nature, something so subtle, fine, and fugacious^
that it will not bear being handled and inspected) lik^
every gross and common subject. You wil^ therefore^
pardon me if I stand upon my philosophic liberty ; and
choose rather to intrench myself within the general and
indefinite sense, rather than, bjr entering into a precise
and particular explication of this beauty, perchance lose
sight of it ; or give you some hold whereon to ca\dl, and
infer, and raise doubts, queries, and difficultiesarout a
point as clear as the sun, when nobody reasons upon it.

Euph. How say you, Alciphron, is that notion clearest
when it is not considered ?

Ale. I say it is rather to be felt than understood— a

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

certain je ne sais quoi. An object, not of thi
faculty, but of a peculiar sense, which is properly called
the moral sense ', being adapted to the perception of moral
beauty, as the eye to colours, or the ear to sounds.

Euph. That men have certain instinctive sensations
w passions from nature, which make them amiable and
useful to each other, I am clearly convinced. Such are
a fellow-feeling with the distressed, a tenderness for our
offspring, an affection towards our friends, our neighbours,
snd our country, an indignation against things base, cruel,
Of" unjust. These passions are implanted in the human
soul, with several other fears and appetites, aversions
and desires, some of which are strongest and uppermost
in One mind, others in another. Should it not therefore
^oerti a very uncertain guide in morals, for a man to folli

passion or inward feeling; and would not this rule.!,'**^ y^
infallibly lead different men different ways, according to ^ '^^
f''S; prevalency of this or that appetite or passion ? iX"

-^ic. I do not deny it. ^ i

. -f^iiph. A nd wil l it not follow from hence that duty and
):!l l~tije are Tn a fai rer way of being practised, if men are
'e3 by reason and judgment, balancing low and sensual
pleasures with those of a higher kind, comparing present
losses with future gains, and the uneasiness and disgust
of every vice with the delightful practice of the opposite
y^rtue, and the pleasing reflexions and hopes which attend

>' "? Or can there be a stronger motive to virtue than the

^'■^ewing that, considered in all lights, it is every man's

'■^e interest ?

6, Ale. I tell you, Euphranor, we contemn the virtue
of that man who computes and deliberates, and must have
a reason for being virtuous. The refined moralists of
our sect are ravished and transported with the abstract
beauty of vi rtue. They disdain all forensic motives to

I The tf

iieoritt Aon«sri'of ancient moralists)
oune into use about the time Berke-
ley wrote, as a substitute for con-
science, to indicate perception of
moral qualities in a way analo-
gous lo our apprehension of the
qualities of matter in the external

senses. It is so employed by
tihaftesbuty, in bis Inquiry con-
cerning Virlui (1699); and after-
wards by Hutcbeson, in his Inquiry
into Ihc Origin of Ideas of Beauty
andVirtue (1735), and his Illustra-
liota upon tht Moml Senst (1738).

130 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

it; and love virtue only for virtue's sake. Oh rapture!
oh enthusiasm ! oh the quintessence of beauty ! methinks
I could dwell for ever on this contemplation : but, rather
than entertain myself, I must endeavour to convince you.
Make an experiment on the first man you meet. Propose
a villainous or unjust action. Take his first sense of
the matter, and you shall find he detests it. He may,
indeed, be afterwards misled by arguments, or overpowered
by temptation ; but his original, unpremeditated, and
genuine thoughts are just and orthodox. How can we
account for this but by a moral sense, which, left to itself,
hath as quick and true a perception of the beauty and

• deformity of human actions as the eye hath of colours ?

, Euph, May not this be suflSciently accounted for by
_ ^ conscience, affection, passion, education, re^souy custom,

"^ religion ; which principles and haBits, for aught I know,
may be what you metaphorically call a moral sense ?

^ Ale. What I call a moral sense is strictly, properly,
and truly such, and in kind different from all those things
you enumerate. It is what all men have, though all may
not observe it.

Upon this Euphranor smiled and said — Alciphron has
made discoveries where I least expected it. For, said
he, in regard to every other point I should hope to learn
from him ; but for the knowledge of myself, or the faculties
and powers of my own mind, I should have looked at
home. And there I might have looked long enough with-
out finding this new talent, which even now, after being
tutored, I cannot comprehend. For Alciphron, I must
needs say, is too sublime and enigmatical upon a point
which of all others ought to be most clearly understood.
I have often heard that your deepest adepts and oldest
professors in science are the obscurest, Lysicles is young,
and speaks plain. Would he but favour us with his sense
of this point, it might perhaps prove more upon a level
with my apprehension.

7. Lysicles shook his head, and in a grave and earnest
manner addressed the company. — Gentlemen, said he,
Alciphron stands upon his own legs. I have no part in
these refined notions he is at present engaged to defend..
If I must subdue my passions, abstract, contemplate.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE 131

enamoured of virtue ; iii a word, if I must be an enthusiast,
I owe so much deference to the laws of my country as
to choose being an enthusiast in their way. Besides,
it is better being so for some end than for none. This
doctrine hath all the solid inconveniences, without the
amusing hopes and prospects, of the Christian.

Ale. I never counted on Lysicles for my second in this
point; which after all doth not need his assistance or
explication. All subjects ought not to be treated in the
same manner. The way of definition and division is
dry and pedantic. Besides, the subject is sometimes too
obscure, sometimes too simple for this method. One
while we know too little of a point, another too much,
to make it plainer by discourse.

Cri. To hear Alciphron talk puts me in mind of that
ingenious Greek who, having wrapped a man's brother
up in a cloak, asked him whether he knew that person >
being ready, either by keeping on or pulling off the
cloak, to confute his answer whatever it should be. For
my part, I believe, if matters were fairly stated, that,
rational satisfaction, that peace of mind, that inward com- \
fort, and conscientious joy, which a good Christian finds 1
in good actions, would not be found to fall short of/
all the ecstasy, rapture, and enthusiasm supposed to be I
the effect of that high and undescribed principle. In/
earnest, can any ecstasy be higher, any rapture morej
affecting, than that which springs from the love of God\^
and man, from a conscience void of offence, and an inward /
discharge of duty, with the secret delight, trust, and hope
that attend it ?

Ale. O Euphranor, we votaries of truth do not envy
but pity the groundless joys and mistaken hopes of a
Christian. And, as for conscience and rational pleasure,
how can we allow a conscience without allowing a vindic-
tive Providence? Or how can we suppose the charm of
virtue consists in any pleasure or benefit attending virtuous
actions \ without giving great advantages to the Christian
religion; which, it seems, excites its believers to virtue

^ [* There can never be less self- good.* Characteristics, vol. 111.

enjoyment than in these supposed p. 301.] — Note in third edition,

wise characters, these selfish com- by the Author,
puters of happiness and private

K 2

132 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

by the highest interests and pleasures in reversion. Alas !
should we grant this, there would be a door opened to
all those rusty declaimers upon the necessity and useful-
ness of the great points of Faith — the immortality of the
soul, a future state, rewards and punishments, and the
like exploded conceits ; which, according to our system
and principles, ma y perhaps produce a low, popular,
int^ested kind of virtue, but must absolutely destroy and
extihguishU in the sublime and heroic sense.

8. Euph. What you now say is very intelligible : I wish
I understood your main principle as well.

Ale. And are you then in earnest at a loss? Is it
possible you should have no notion of beauty, or that
having it you should not know it to be amiable — amiable
I say, in itself, and for itself?

Euph, Pray tell me, Alciphron, are all mankind agreed
in the notion of a beauteous face ?

Ale. Beauty in human-kind seems to be of a mixed and
various nature ; forasmuch as the passions, sentiments,
and qualities of the soul, being seen through and blending
with the features, work differently on different minds,
as the sympathy is more or less. But with regard to
other things is there no steady principle of beauty? Is
there upon earth a human mind without the idea of order,
harmony, and proportion ?

Euph. O Alciphron, it is my weakness that I am apt
to be lost and bewildered in abstractions and generalities,
but a particular thing is better suited to my faculties ^
I find it easy to consider and keep in view the objects
of sense : let us therefore try to discover what their beauty
is, or wherein it consists ; and so, by the help of these
sensible things, as a scale or ladder^, ascend to moral
and intelligible beauty. Be pleased then to inform me,
what is it we call beauty in the objects of sense ?

Ale, Every one knows beauty is that which pleases.

Euph, There is then beauty in the smell of a rose, or
the taste of an apple ?

^ Cf. Principles of Human Know- ception. What follows, in this

ledge, Introduction, sect. 6-17, and and the next scfction, relates to

other passages directed against the sense of beauty in the world

metaphysical abstractions. of the senses.

^ So Sirisy in its general con*

THE THIRD DIALOGUE I33

Ale. By no means. Beauty is, to speak properly, per-
ceived only by the eye.

Euph, It cannot therefore be defined in general— that
which pleaseth ?

Ale. I grant it cannot.

Euph. How then shall we limit or define it ?

Aletphron, after a short pause, said that beauty con-
sisted in a certain symmetry or proportion pleasing to
the eye.

Euph. Is this proportion one and the same in all things,
or is it different in different kinds of things ?

Ale. Different, doubtless. The proportions of an ox
would not be beautiful in a horse. And we may observe Q^
also in things inanimate, that the beauty of a table, a chair, ^O^
SL door, consists in different proportions.

Euph. Doth not this proportion imply the relation of
one thing to another ?

Ale. It doth.

Euph. And are not these relations founded in size and
shape ?

Ale. They are.

Euph. And, to make the proportions just, must not those
mutual relations of size and shape in the parts be such
as shall make the whole complete and perfect in its
kind ?

Ale. I grant they must.

Euph. Is not a thing said to be perfect in its kind when >.
it answers the end for which it was made ?

Ale. It is.

Euph. The parts, therefore, in true proportions must be
so related, and adjusted to one another, as that they may ^
best conspire to the use and operation of the whole ?

Ale. It seems so.

Euph. But the comparing parts one with another, the
considering them as belonging to one whole, and referring
this whole to its use or end, should seem the work of

reason: should it not? \>l^l JT^

Ale. Itshould.^ V ^(^J)^

Euph. Proportions, therefore, are not, strictly speaking, ' t
>erceiyed By llie sense of sighjt, but only by reason through C"^^^
'^^ m'eans of sight. 3

* [is 1 grant.

134 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph. Consequently beauty, in your sense of it, is an
object, not of the eye, but of the mind.

Ale. It is.

Euph. The eye, therefore, alone cannot see that a chair
is handsome, or a door well proportioned.

Ale, It seems to follow; but I am not clear as to this
point.

Euph. Let us see if there be any difficulty in it. Could
the chair you sit on, think you, be reckoned well pro-
portioned or handsome, if it had not such a height, breadth,
wideness, and was not so far reclined as to afford a con-
venient seat ?

Ale. It could not.

Euph. The beauty, therefore, or symmetry of a chair
cannot be apprehended but by knowing its use, and com-
paring its figure with that use; which cannot be done
by the eye alone, but is the effect of judgment. It is,
therefore, one thing to see an object, and another to diseern
its beauty.

Ale, I admit this to be true.

9. Euph, The architects judge a door to be of a beautiful
proportion, when its height is double of the breadth. But
if you should invert a well-proportioned door, making its
breadth become the height, and its height the breadth, the
figure would still be the same, but without that beauty
in one situation which it had in another. What can be
the cause of this, but that, in the fore-mentioned supposition,
the door would not yield convenient entrances to creatures
of a human figure? But, if in any other part of the
universe there should be supposed rational animals of an
inverted stature, they must be supposed to invert the rule
for proportion of doors ; and to them that would appear
beautiful which to us was disagreeable.

Ale. Against this I have no objection.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, is there not something truly
decent and beautiful in dress ?

Ale, Doubtless, there is.

Euph. Are any likelier to give us an idea of this beauty
in dress than painters and sculptors, whose proper business
and study it is to aim at graceful representations ?

Ale. I believe n6t.

THE THIHD DIALOGUE

135

Euph. Let us then examine the draperies of the great
masters in these arts : how, for instance, they use to clothe
a matron, or a man of rank. Cast an eye on those figures
(said he, pointing to some prints after Raphael and Guido,
that hung upon the wall) — what appearance do you think
an English courtier or magistrate, with his Gothic, succinct,
plaited garment, and his full-bottomed wig ; or one bf our
ladies in her unnatural dress, pinched and stiffened and
enlarged, with hoops and whale-bone and buckram, must
make, among those figures so decently clad in draperies
that fall into such a variety of natural, easy, and ample
folds, that appear with so much dignity and simplicity,
that cover the body without encumbering it, and adorn
wthout altering the shape?

Ale. Truly I think they must make a very ridiculous
appearance.

Eupli. And what do you think this proceeds from ?
Whence is it that the Eastern nations, the Greeks, and
the Romans, naturally ran into the most becoming dresses ;
while our Gothic gentry, after so many centuries racking
their inventions, mending, and altering, and improving,
and whirling about in a perpetual rotation of fashions,
have never yet had the luck to stumble on any that was
not absurd and ridiculous? Is it not from hence— that,
instead of consulting use, reason, and convenience, they
abandon themselves to irregular fancy, the unnatural
parent of monsters? Whereas the ancients, considering^ ,
the use and end of dress, made it subservient to the
fr eedo m, ease, and convenience of the body ; and, having
no notion of mending or changing the natural shape, they;
aimed only at shewing it with decency and advantage. ,
And, if this be so, are we not to conclude that the beauty \
of dress depends on its subserviency to certain ends and^
uses?
Ak. This appears to be true.

Euph. This s ubordinate rel ative nature of^ beauty, per- -
flaps, will be yet plainer.Tf^we examine the respective
beauties of a horse and a pillar, Vii^ii's description of
the former is—

nil ardua cervix.
Argutiimqiie fBpul. brevis alviis. obesaqiic Irrgu,
I.uxuriatquc tar is anlmoaum pectus.

:~X^

136 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Now, I would fain know whether the perfections and uses
of a horse may not be reduced to these three points,
courage, strength, and speed ; and whether each of the
beauties enumerated doth not occasion or betoken one of
these perfections? After the same manner, if we inquire
into the parts and proportions of a beautiful pillar, we
shall perhaps find them answer to the same idea. Those
who have considered the theory of architecture tell us!
the proportions of the three Grecian orders were taken
from the human body, as the most beautiful and perfect
production of nature. Hence were derived those graceful
ideas of columns, which had a character of strength
without clumsiness, or of delicacy without weakness.
Those beautiful proportions were, I say, taken originally
from nature, which, in her creatures, as hath been already
observed, referreth them to some end, use, or design.
The gonfiezza also, or swelling, and the diminution of a
pillar, is it not in such proportion as to make it appear
strong and light at the same time? In the same manner,
must not the whole entablature, with its projections, be
so proportioned, as to seem great but not heavy, light but
not little; inasmuch as a deviation into either extreme
would thwart that reason and use of things wherein their
beauty is founded, and to which it is subordinate ? The
entablature, and all its parts and ornaments, architrave,
frieze, cornice, triglyphs, metopes, modiglions, and the
rest, have each a use or appearance of use, in giving
firmness and union to the building, in protecting it from
the weather and casting off the rain, in representing the
ends of beams with their intervals, the production of
rafters, and so forth. And if we consider the graceful
angles in frontispieces, the spaces between the columns,
or the ornaments of their capitals — shall we not find, that
their beauty riseth from the appearance of use, or the
imitation of natural things, whose beauty is originally
founded on the same principle? which is, indeed, the
grand distinction between Grecian and Gothic architecture;
die latter being fantastical, and for the most part founded

* [See the learned Patriarch of fostered in Italy, has been already

AquUeia's Commentary on Vitru' referred to. Cf. Dial. II. sect. 15

viuSf Lib. IV. cap. i.] — Author. note.
Berkeley's taste in architecture,

THE THIRD DIALOGUE I37

neither in nature nor in reason, in necessity nor use, the
appearance of which accounts for all the beauty, grace,
and ornament of the other.

Cri. What Euphranor has said confirms the opinion
I always entertained— that the ru les of architecture were
founded, as all other arts whicK" flourished among the
GreekSj in truths jand nature, and good sense. But the
ancients, who, from a thorough consideration of the grounds
and principles of art, formed their idea of beauty, did not
always confine themselves strictly to the same rules and
proportions; but, whenever the particular distance, position,
elevation, or dimension of the fabric or its parts seemed
to require it, made no scruple to depart from them, without
deserting the original principles of beauty, which governed
whatever deviations they made. This latitude or licence
might not, perhaps, be safely trusted with most modern
architects, who in their bold sallies seem to act without
aim or design ; and to be governed by Qoidjea^ no jreason,
or principle of art, but pure caprice, joined with a thorough
contempt of that noble simplicity of the ancients, without
which there can be no unity, gracefulness, or grandeur
in their works; which of consequence must serve only
to disfigure and dishonour the nation, being so many
monuments to future ages of the opulence and ill taste of
the present; which, it is to be feared, would succeed as
wretchedly, and make as mad work in other affairs, were
men to follow, instead of rules, precepts, and morals, their
own taste and first thoughts of beauty.

Ale. I should now, methinks, be glad to see a little more
distinctly the use and tendency of this digression upon
architecture.

Euph. Was not beauty the very thing we inquired afler ?

Ale, It was.

Euph. What think you, Alciphron, can the appearance
of a thing please at this time, and in this place, which
pleased two thousand years ago, and two thousand miles
off, without some real principle of beauty ?

Ale. It cannot

Euph. And is not this the case with respect to a just
piece of architecture ?

Ale, Nobody denies it.

Euph, Architecture, the noble offspring of judgment

138 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

and fancy, was gradually formed in the most polite and
knowing countries of Asia, Egypt, Greece, and Italy. It
was cherished and esteemed by the most flourishing states
and most renowned princes, who wiljh vast expense im-
proved and brought it to perfection. \lt seems, above all
other arts, peculiarly conversant about order, proportion,
and symmetry. May it not therefore be supposed, on all
accounts, most likely to help us to some rational notion of
theje ne sais quoi in beauty? And, in effect, have we not
learned from this digression that, as there i s no beaut y
without proportion, so proportions are to be esteemedjust
andTrue, omy as they are relative to some-certain use or
end, tSe jr a ptitude and subordination to wTuChr~end is,
at bottom, that which makes them please and charm ?
Ale. readmit all this to be true.

w- 10. Euph. According to this doctrine, I would fain

f^y^^ know what beauty* can be found in a mnral gyatpm^

} f.y^ formed, connected, and governed by chaniC!e^_X^tejLw:^ny

ut^ other blind unthinking principle ? Forasmuch as without

^ thought there can be no end or design ; and without an

end there can be no use; and without use there is no

aptitude or fitness of proportion, from whence beauty

springs.

Ale, May we not suppose a certain vital principle of
beauty, order, and harmony, diffused throughout the world,
without supposing a Providence inspecting, punishing,
and rewarding the moral actions of men ; without suppos-
ing the immortality of the soul, or a life to come; in
a word, without admitting any part of what is commonly
called Faith, Worship, and Religion ?

Crt, Either you suppose this principle intelligent, or
not intelligent : if the latter, it is all one with chance or
fate, which was just now argued against : if the fonner,
let me entreat Alciphron to explain to me wherein consists
the beauty of a moral system, with a supreme Intelligence
at the head of it which neither protects the innocent,
punishes the wicked, nor rewards the virtuous. To suppose
indeed a society of rational agents, acting under the eye
of Providence, concurring in one design to promote the

* Shaftesbury's analogy between sense was reproduced by Hutcheson .
the sense of beauty and the moral in his Inquiry,

THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 139

1 benefit of the whole, and conforming their actions
to the established laws and order of the Divine parental
wisdom : wherein each particular agent shall not consider
himself apart, but as the member of a great City, whose
author and founder is God : in which the civil laws are
no other than the rules of virtue and the duties of religion :
and where every one's true interest is combined with his
duty : — to suppose this would be delightful : on this
supposition a man need be no Stoic or knight-errant, to
account for his virtue. In such a system, vice is madness,
cunning is folly, wisdom and virtue are the same thing;
where, notwithstanding all the crooked paths and by-roads,
the wayward appetites and inclinations of men, sovereign
reason is sure to reform whatever seems amiss, to reduce
that which is devious, make straight that which is crooked,
and, in the last act, wind up the whole plot according to
the exactest rules of wisdom and justice. In such a system
or society, governed by the wisest precepts, enforced by
the highest rewards and discouragements, it is delightful
to consider how the regulation of laws, the distribution of
good and evil, the aim of moral agents, do all conspire in
due subordination to promote the noblest end, to wit, the
complete happiness or well-being of the whole. In con-
templating the beauty of such a moral system, we may
cry out with the Psalmist— ' Very excellent things are
spoken of thee, thou City of God.*

II. In a system of spirits, subordinate to the will, and
under the direction of the Father of spirits, governing them
by laws, and conducting them by methods suitable to wise
and good ends', there will be great beauty. But in an
incoherent fortuitous system, governed by chance, or in
a blind system, governed by fate, or in any system where
Providence doth not preside, how can beauty be, which
cannot be without order, which cannot be without design ?
When a man is conscious that his will is inwardly con-
formed to the Divine will, producing order and harmony
in the universe, and conducting the whole by the justest

' This i£ Berkeley's implied con- Uirough data of sense, all ideally

of Ihe economy of the united in God. It is further un-

e-a City of God—a society folded in SiVis.
■ persons,

140 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

methods to the best end : this gives a beautiful idea. But,
on the other hand, a consciousness of virtue overlooked,
neglected, distressed by men, and not regarded or re-
warded by God, ill-used in this world, without hope or
prospect of being better used in another — I would fain
know where is the pleasure of this reflexion, where is the
beauty of this scene ? Or, how could any man in his senses
think the spreading such notions the way to spread or
propagate virtue in the world ? Is it not, I beseech you,
an ugly system in which you can suppose no law and prove
no duty, wherein men thrive by wickedness and suffer by
virtue? Would it not be a disagreeable sight to see an
honest man peeled by sharpers, to see virtuous men injured
and despised while vice triumphed ? An enthusiast may
entertain himself with visions and fine talk about such
a system ; but when it comes to be considered by men of
cool heads and close reason, I believe they will find no
beauty nor perfection in it ; nor will it appear that such
a moral system can possibly come from the same hand,
or be of a piece with the natural, throughout which there
shine so much order, harmony, and proportion.

Ale. Your discourse serves to confirm me in my opinion.
You may remember, I declared that touching this beauty
of morality in the high sense, a man's first thoughts are
the best ; and that, if we pretend to examine, inspect, and
reason, we are in danger to lose sight of it^ That in fact
there is such a thing cannot be doubted, when we consider
that in these days some of our philosophers have a high
sense of virtue, without the least notionof religion— a clear
proof of the usefulness and efficacy of our principles !

12. Cn. Not to dispute the virtue of minute philosophers,
we may venture to call its cause in question, and make
a doubt whether it be an inexplicable enthusiastic notion
of moral beauty, or rather, as to me it seems, what was
already assigned by Euphranor — complexion, custom, and
religious education ? But, allowing what beauty you please
to virtue in an irreligious system, it cannot be less in

* [* Men's first thoughts on moral than those refined by study.*
matters are generally better than Characteristics ^ vol. I. p. i8.] — Note
their second : their natural notions in third edition, by the Author).

THE THIRD DIALOGUE I41

a religious, unless you will suppose that her charms
diminish as her dowry increaseth. The truth is, a believer
hath all the motives from the beauty of virtue in any
sense whatsoever that an unbeliever can possibly have,
besides other motives which an unbeliever hath not.
Hence, it is plain those of your sect who have moral
virtue owe it not to their peculiar tenets, which serve only
to lessen the motives to virtue. Those, therefore, who
are good are less good, and those who are bad are more
bad, than they would have been were they believers.

Euph. To me it seems those heroic infidel inamoratos
of abstracted beauty are much to be pitied, and much to be
admired.

Lysicles hearing this, said with some impatience: —
Gentlemen, you shall have my whole thoughts upon this
point plain and frank. All that is said about a moral
sense, or moral beauty, in any signification, either of
Alciphron, or Euphranor, or any other, I take to be at
bottom mere bubble and pretence. The koKov and the
Trpdrrov, the beautiful and decent, are things outward, relative,
and^superficial, which have no effect in the dark, but are
specious topics to discourse and expatiate upon, as some
formal pretenders of our sect, though in other points very
orthodox, are used to do. But should one of them get
into power, you would find him no such fool as Euphranor
imagines. He would soon shew he had found out that
the love of one's country is a prejudice : that mankind are
rogues and hypocrites, and that it were folly to sacrifice
one's-self for the sake of such : that all regards centre in
this life, and that, as this life is to every man his own life,
it clearly follows that charity begins at home. Benevolence
to mankind is perhaps pretended, but benevolence to
himself is practised by the wise. The livelier sort of our
philosophers do not scruple to own these maxims; and
as for the graver, if they are true to their principles, one
may guess what they must think at the bottom.

Cri. Whatever may be the effect of pure theory upon
certain select spirits, of a peculiar make, or in some other
parts of the world, I do verily think that in this country of
ours, reason, religion, and law are all together little enough
to subdue the outward to the inner man ; and that it must
argue a wrong head and weak judgment to suppose that

f42 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

without them men will be enamoured of the golden mean.
To which my countrymen perhaps are less inclined than
others, there being in the make of an English mind'
a certain gloom and eagerness, which carries to the sad
extreme — religion to fanaticism ; free-thinking to atheism ;
liberty to rebellion : nor should we venture to be governed
by taste, even in matters of less consequeilce. The
beautiful in dress, furniture, and building is, as Euphranor
hath observed, something real and well grounded: and
yet our English do not find it out of themselves. What
wretched work do they and other northern people make
when they follow their own taste of beauty in any of these
particulars, instead of acquiring the true, which is to be
got from ancient models and the principles of art, as in
the case of virtue from great models and meditation,
so far as natural means can go ? But in no case is it to
be hoped that t6 koKSv will be the leading idea of the
many, who have quick senses, strong passions, and gross
intellects.

13. Ale. The fewer they are the more ought we to
esteem and admire such philosophers, whose souls are
touched and transported with this sublime idea.

Cri. But then one might expect from such philosophers
so much good sense and philanthropy as to keep their
tenets to themselves, and consider their weak brethren,
who are more strongly affected by certain senses and
notions of another kind than that of the beauty of pure
disinterested virtue.

Cratylus % a man prejudiced against the Christian reli-
gion, of a crazy constitution, of a rank above most men's
ambition, and a fortune equal to his rank, had little capa-
city for sensual vices, or temptation to dishonest ones.
Cratylus, having talked himself, or imagined that he had
talked himself, into a stoical enthusiasm about the beauty
of virtue, did, under the pretence of making men heroically
virtuous, endeavour to destroy the means of making them
reasonably and humanly so : a clear instance that neither
birth, nor books, nor conversation can introduce a know-
ledge of the world into a conceited mind, which will ever

^ Cf. Dial II. sect. 17. ^ Shaftesbury.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

143

Ik its own object, and contemplate mankind in its own
mirror !

Ah: Cratylus was a lover of liberty, and of his country,
and had a mind to make men incorrupt and virtuous upon
llje purest and most disinterested principles.

Cri, [ 'It is true the main scope of all his writings (as he

'limself tells lis') was to assert the reality of a beauty

Md charm in moral as well as in natural subjects ; to

''emonstrate a taste which he thinks more effectual than

pnnclple ; to recommend morals on the same foot with

"ianners ; and so to advance philosophy on the very

'OUfidation of what is called agreeable and polite. As for

'"^'igious qualms — the belief of a future state of rewards

3nd punishments, and such matters — this great man sticks

"f"! to declare that the liberal, polished, and refined part

o*^ mankind must needs consider them only as children's

tales and amusements of the vulgar'. For the sake

therefore of the better sort, he hath, in great goodness

^d wisdom, thought of something else, to wit, a iasle or

''^^I'sh : this, he assures us, is at least what will influence ;

Since, according to him, whoever has any impression of

gcritility {as he calls it) or politeness, is so acquainted with

'he decorum and grace of things as to be readily trans-

P<*>~ted with the contemplation thereof ^] His conduct

^ejna just as wise as if a monarch should give out that

tliere was neither jail nor executioner in his kingdom to

'^^ force the laws, but that it would be beautiful to observe

">eni, and that in so doing men would taste the pure

"flight which results from order and decorum ''.

Miscel. 5, cap. 3 ; Misccl. 3, oap. 2.]
—Author.

* Here and elaewhere Berkeley
does less than justice to Shsflcs-
bury'' view of the relation of
reli^on to moralify : as if he re-
presented regard for reward and
puniBhrnent in a future life to be
necessEriiy atlfish. and ho really
immoral, for he recognises it as
auxiliary. But this when heaven
is anticipated as realised good-
ness, and hell as the opposite of
this. Take the following state-
ment ■ — ' If by the hope of reward

' ■ It has been the main scope
''*<! principal end of Iheae uohimes
" assert the reality of a heauly
^'3 eharm in moral as well as
"atural subjects; and to demon-
^'■'"ate the reasonableness of a pro-
l^nionate taste, and determinate
■^hoiceiniife and manners.' Char-
"'^'ristin, voL III. p. 303.

Sec Cliaracterislks, vol III.
Pp. .„-8.

• [See CharacUrislics, vol. 111.

144 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Ale. After all, is it not true that certain ancient philoso-
phers, of great note, held the same opinion with Cratylus,
declaring that he did not come up to the character, or
deserve the title of a good man, who practised virtue for
the sake of anything but its own beauty ?

Cri. I believe, indeed, that some of the ancients said
such things as gave occasion for this opinion.

Aristotle * distinguisheth between two characters of a
good man — the one he calleth aya$6q, or simply good; the
other KoXos KayaOo^, from whence the compound term icoAo-
KayaBia, which Cannot, perhaps, be rendered by any one
word in our language. But his sense is plainly this:—
ayaOo^ he defineth to be, that man to whom the good things
of nature are good : for, according to him, those things which
are vulgarly esteemed the greatest goods, as riches, honours,
power, and bodily perfections, are indeed good by nature,
but they happen nevertheless to be hurtful and bad to
some persons, upon the account of evil habits ; inasmuch
as neither a fool, nor an unjust man, nor an intemperate,
can be at all the better for the use of them, any more than
a sick man for using the nourishment proper for those
who are in health. But koAo? KayaOos is that man in whom
are to be found all things worthy and decent and laudable,
purely as such and for their own sake, and who practiseth
vjrtue from no other motive ^han the sole Jove of h er own
innate beau ty. That pfiilosopher observes likewise that
there is a certain political habit, such as the Spartans and
others had, who thought virtue was to be valued and
practised on account of the natural advantages that attend
it. For which reason, he adds, they are indeed good men,
but they have not the KokoKayaOia, or supreme_ consummate
virtue. From hence it is plain that, according to Aristcti^

he understood the love and desire
of virtuous enjoyment, or of the
very practice and exercise of virtue
in another life; an expectation
or hope of this kind is so far from
being derogatory from virtue that
it is an evidence of our loving it
the more sincerely, and for its own
sake. . . . He who, as a sound
theist, believes in a reigning Mind,
sovereign in nature and ruling all

things with the highest perfection
of goodness, must necessarily be-
lieve virtue to be naturally good
and advantageous. . . . Hence we
may determine justly the relatiotf
which virtue has to piety; the
first being not complete but in the
latter* {Characteristics, InquitycoH'
cemifig Virtue, Bk. I).

* [Ethic, ad Eudemum, Lib. VII.
cap. ult.] — ^Author.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

145

a man may be a good man without believing^ virtu e it s own
ceward, of being only" mov ed to virtue Tjy^ the_ sense . ot"
moral beauty. It is also plain that he distinguisheth the
poTTtTcal virtues of nations, which the public is everywhere
Qoncerned to maintain, from this sublime and speculative
.kind.

It might also be observed that his exalted idea did
consist with supposing a Frovjdence which inspects and
rewards the virtues of the~Best_nien. For, saith he, in
another place '^ IT the~~gods Tiave any care of human
affairs, as it appears they have", it should seem reasonable
to suppose they are most delighted with the most excellent
nature, and most approaching their own, which is the
mind, and that they will reward those who chiefly love
and cultivate what is most dear to them. The same philoso-
pher observes^, that the bulk of mankind are not naturally
disposed to be awed by shame, but by fear ; nor to abstain
from vicious practices on account of their deformity, but
onl^ of the punishment which attends them. And again ',
he tells us inat youth, being of itself averse from abstinence
and sobriety, should be under the restraint of laws regu-
lating their education and employment, and that the same
discipline should be continued even after they became
men. For which, saith he, we want laws, and, in one
word, for the whole ordering of life ; inasmuch as the
generality of mankind obey rather force than reason, and
are influenced rather by penalties than the beauty of
virtue {Irjiuaiq ^ Tip KaAijJ).

From all which, it is very plain what Aristotle would
have thought of those who should go about to lessen or
destroy the hopes and fears of mankind, in order to make
them virtuous on this sole principle of the beauty of
virtue.

' [AdiVicBm. Db. X. cap. 8.]
' ' as it appears they have '

the c

ginal,

dicates that a Divine Providence is
possible, but without pronouncing
upon ilB truth or falsehood. Aris-
totle, unlike Plato, generally avoids
a decision about a future life (cf.
Nieom. Ethics, I. 10, 11; 111. 6), or

at least views the problems ofethics
as unaffected by this regard, virtue
being superior to the course of
evenls. Aristotle and Shaftesbury
are here perhaps more akin tlian
Crito allows.

= [Ad Nicom. Lib. X. cap. 10.] —
Author.

' [Ad Nicam. Lib. X. cap. 9.]—

146 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

14. Ale, But, whatever the Stagirite and his Peripatetics
might think, is it not certain that the Stoics maintained
this doctrine in its highest sense, asserting the beauty of
virtue to be all-sufficient, that virtue was her own reward,
that this alone could make a man happy, in spite of Ml
those things which are vulgarly esteemed the greatest
woes and miseries of human life ? And all this they held
at the same time that they believed the soul of man to be
of a corporeal nature, and in death dissipated like a flame
or vapour.

Cru It must be owned the Stoics sometimes talk as if
they believed the mortality of the soul *. Seneca, in a letter
of his to Lucilius, speaks much like a minute philosopher
in this particular. But, in several other places, he declares
himseu of a clear contrary opinion, affirming^ that the souls
of men after death mount alofl into the heavens, look down
upon earth, entertain themselves with the theory of celestial
bodies, the course of nature, and the conversation of wise
and excellent men, who, having lived in distant ages and
countries upon earth, make one society in the other world.

It must also be acknowledged that Marcus Antoninus
sometimes speaks of the soul as perishing, or dissolving
into its elementary parts. But it is to be noted that he
distinguisheth three principles in the composition of human
nature — the o-w/ui, ^x^f "o^s^, body, soul, mind; or, as he
otherwise expresseth himself— o-apKio, Trv€v/jLdTtov, and ^fw
vLKov— flesh, spirit, and governing prineipk^. What he calls
the ^xOt or soul, containing the brutal part of our nature,
is indeed represented as a compound dissoluble, and
actually dissolved by death; but the vov5, or to ^c/aovucov*
— the mind, or ruling principle — he held to be of a pure
celestial nature, B€ov diroarwaa-fw., a particle of God, which he
sends back entire to the stars and the Divinity. Besides,

^ Seneca and Marcus Aurelius
are the only authorities referred to
by Crito, in support of his inter-
pretation of the Stoical doctrine of
the relation of morality to religion
— inadequate evidence in the light
of recent research. Cf. even SiriSi
sect. 153, 172, 185, 276, 302, 323,
&c. See Zeller's PhOosophie der
Griechsen, vol. III. Most Stoics

seem to have accepted a pantheistic
necessity, alien to belief in the int'
mortality of the individual. -

^ [Marc. Antonin. Lib. III. cap.
16.] — ^Author.

* Compare this with St. Paul,
I Thess. v. 23, who adopts a
similar division.

* Cf. Siri9, sect. i6a, 17a, 316.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

147

among all his magnificent lessons and splendid sentiments
upon the force and beauty of virtue, he is positive as to
the being of God ; and that not merely as a plastic nature,
or soul of the world, but in the strict sense of a Providence
inspecting and taking care of human affairs \

The Stoics, therefore, though their style was high, and
often above truth and nature, yet it cannot be said that
they so resolved every motive to a virtuous life into the
sole beauty of virtue as to endeavour to destroy the belief
of the immortality of the soul and a distributive Providence.
After all, allowing the disinterested Stoics (therein not
unlike our modern Quietists) to have made virtue its own
sole reward, in the most rigid and absolute sense, yet
what is this to those who are no Stoics? If we adopt
the whole principles of that sect, admitting their notions
of good and evil, their celebrated apathy, and, in one word,
setting up for complete Stoics, we may possibly maintain
this doctrine with a better grace; at least it will be of
a piece, and consistent with the whole. But he who shall
borrow this splendid patch from the Stoics, and hope to
make a figure by inserting it into a piece of modem com-
position, seasoned with the wit and notions of these times,
will indeed make a figure, but perhaps it may not be in the
eyes of a wise man the figure he intended ^.

^ [Marc. Antonin. Lib. II. cap.
II.] — Author.

2 Shaftesbury warns against
selfishness in our anticipation of
reward and punishment after
death : — * In this religious sort of
discipline, the principle of self-love^
which is naturally so prevailing in
us, being no way moderated or
restrained, but rather improved and
made stronger every day, by the
exercise of the passions in a subject
of more extendi self-interest', there
may be reason to apprehend lest
the temper of this kind should
extend itself in general through all
the parts of life. For, if the habit
be such as to occasion in every
particular a stricter attention to
self-good and private interest, it
must insensibly diminish the affec-

tions towards public good, or the
interest of society, and introduce
a certain narrowness of spirit,
which, as some pretend, is pecu-
liarly observable in the devout
persons and zealots of almost every
religious persuasion. This too
must be confessed, that, if it be
true piety to love God for His own
sakey the over-solicitous regard to
private good expected from Him,
must of necessity prove a diminu-
tion of piety.' {Characteristics,
vol. II. pp. 58, 59.) * To be bribed
only or terrified into an honest
practice bespeaks little of real
honesty or worth. If virtue be not
really est *'"'*'^lf; i" "^*^*^^
nothinpr f,-|fiTmMn in riillilllinQ it
Jbr the sake of a barga in.* (Vol. I,
p. 97.5 Cf. Characteristics, vol. II

L 2

148 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

15, Though it must be owned the present age is very
indulgent to everything that aims at profane raillery;
which is alone sufficient to recommend any fantastical
composition to the public. You may behold the tinsel
of a modern author pass upon this knowing and learned
age for good writing; affected strains for wit; pecJantry
for politeness ; obscurity for depths ; ramblings for flights ;
the most awkward imitation for original humour ; and all
this upon the sole merit of a little artful profaneness.
. Ale. Every one is not alike pleased with writings of
humour, nor alike capable of them. It is the fine irony
of a man of quality *, * that certain reverend authors, who
can condescend to lay-wit, are nicely qualified to hit the
air of breeding and gentility, and that they will in time,
no doubt, refine their manner to the edification of the
polite world ; who have been so seduced by the way of
raillery and wit/ The truth is, the various taste of readers
requireth various kinds of writers. Our sect hath pro-
vided for this with great judgment. To proselyte the
graver sort, we have certain profound men at reason and
argument. For the coffee-houses and p6pulace, we have
declaimers of a copious vein. Of such a writer it is no
reproach to say, /Imt lutulentus ; he is the fitter for his
readers. Then, for men of rank and politeness, we have
the finest and wittiest railleurs in the world, whose ridicule
is the surest test of truth ^

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, are those ingenious railleurs
men of knowledge ?

Ale, Very knowing.

Euph, Do they know, for instance, the Copernican
system, or the circulation of the blood ?

Ale. One would think you judged of our sect by your

pp. 54-57, 68, 69, 270-273, &c.—
Those passages justly condemn the
servile so-called religion which is
neither moral nor religious. But
if, with the most enlightened philo-
sophers and theologians, we mean
by the hope of heaven hope of
perpetual goodness for its own
sake ; and by * salvation,* life in
conformity to the Divine ideal ;
then religious hope of heaven, so
far from being derogatory to mor-

alitj', is an evidence of love of
goodness for its own sake. The
Characteristics attack perversion of
this truth.

* Compare with this Shaftes-
bury's Characteristics, vol. III. p.
291.

* See Shaftesbury's Essay on the
Freedom of Wit and Humour. Also
Leland's VieiVy Letter V, and
Warburton's Divine Legatiofi of
Moses — Dedication.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE

'+9

country neighbours: there is nobody in town but knows
all those points.

Euph. You believe then antipodes, mountains in the
moon, and the motion of the earth?
^k. We do.

Euph. Suppose, five or six centuries ago, a man had
naintained these notions among the beaux esprits of an
English court; how do you think they would have been
received ?

^Ic. With great ridicule.

-£tibh. And now it would be ridiculous to ridicule tiiem ?
^!c. It would.

JLiipb. But truth was the same then and now ?
-r4/r, It was.

Jinph. It should seem, therefore, that ridicule is no such '
sovereign touchstone and test of truth as you gentlemen
imagine.

^k. One thing we know : our raillery and sarcasms gall
Ibte black tribe, and that is our comfort.

Cri. There is another thing it may be worth your while
to know : that men in a laughing fit may applaud a ridicule
"ivhich shall appear contemptible when they come to them-
selves. Witness the ridicule of Socrates by the comic
l>t>et, the humour and reception it met with no more proving
that than the same will yours to be just, when calmly con-
sidered by men of sense.

Ak. After all, thus much is certain, our ingenious men
'>'»ai(e converts by deriding the principles of religion. And,
'^ake my word, it is the most successful and pleasing method
"'"conviction. These authors laugh men out of their
""^'igion, as Horace did out of their vices : Admtssi circuin
P^<ecordia liidunt. But a bigot cannot relish or find out
'heir wit.

, '6, Cfi. Wit without wisdom, if there be such a thing, is
"3r(ily worth finding. And as for the wisdom of these
P'^1, it is of a kind so peculiar one may well suspect
I ■ Cicero was a man of sense, and no bigot; neverthe-
^^s, he makes Scipio own himself much more vigilant
fl?*^ vigorous in the race of virtue, from supposing heaven
^^fie prize'. And he introduceth Cato declaring he would

150 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

never have undergone those virtuous toils for the service
of the public, if he had thought his being was to end with
this life'.

yllc. I acknowledge Cato, Scipio, and Cicero were very
well for their times ; but you must pardon me if I do not
think they arrived at the high, consummate virtue of our
modern free-thinkers.

Euph. It should seem then that virtue flourisheth more
than ever among us ?

A/c. It should.

Euph. And this abundant virtue is owing to the method
taken by your profound writers to recommend it.

Ale. This I grant.

Euph. But you have acknowledged that the enthusiastic
lovers of virtue are not the many of your sect, but only
a few select spirits.

To which Alciphron making no answer, Crito addressed-
himself to Euphranor : — To make, said he, a true estimate
of the worth and growth of modem virtue, you are not tc^
count the virtuous men, but rather to consider the quality^
of their virtue. Now, you must know the virtue of thes^^
refined theorists is something so pure and genuine tha*^
a very little goes far, and is in truth invaluable. To whiclr^^
that reasonable interested virtue of the old English 0:0^
Spartan kind can bear no proportion.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, are there not diseases of th^^
soul as well as of the body ?

Ale. Without doubt.

Euph. And are not those diseases vicious habits ?

Ale. They are.

Euph, And, as bodily distempers are cured by physi
those of the mind are cured by philosophy : are they not

Ale. I acknowledge it.

Euph. It seems, therefore, that philosophy is a mediciim
for the soul of man.

Ale. It is.

Euph. How shall we be able to judge of medicines, c^^
know which to prefer? Is it not from the effects wrougl^^
by them ?

Ale. Doubtless.

* [De Semdute.'] — Author.

THE THIRD DIALOGUE 151

Euph, Where an epidemical distemper rages, suppose
a new physician should condemn the known established
practice, and recommend another method of cure, would
you not, in proportion as the bills of mortality increased,
be tempted to suspect this new method, notwithstanding
all the plausible discourse of its abettors ?

Ale. This serves only to amuse and lead us from the
question.

Cri. It puts me in mind of my friend Lamprocles, who
needed but one argument against infidels. I observed, said
he, that as infidelity grew, there grew corruption of every
kind, and new vices. This simple observation on matter
of fact was sufficient to make him, notwithstanding the
remonstrance of several ingenious men, imbue and season
the minds of his children betimes with the principles of
religion. The new theories, which our acute moderns
have endeavoured to substitute in place of religion, have
had their full course in the present age, and produced
their effect on the minds and manners of men. That men
are men, is a sure maxim : but it is as sure that English-
men are not the same men they were ; whether better or
worse, more or less virtuous, I need not say. Every one
may see and judge. Though, indeed, after Aristides had
been banished, and Socrates put to death at Athens,
a man, without being a conjuror, might guess what the
Beauty of Virtue could do in England. But there is now
neither room nor occasion for guessing. We have our
own experience to open our eyes ; which yet, if we continue
to keep shut till the remains of religious education are
quite worn off from the minds of men, it is to be feared we
shall then open them wide, not to avoid, but to behold and
lament our ruin.

Ale. Be the consequences what they will, I can never

b ring mySf ^lf fn hf> r^i^ a minH iiritli fluii n iiiliri iiTfrasnrp

truth by convenience^ Truth is the only divinity that
1 adore. Wherever truth leads, I shall follow.

Euph. You have then a passion for truth ?

Ale, Undoubtedly.

Euph, For all truths ?

Ale. For all.

Euph, To know, or to publish them ?

Ale. Both.

152 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph, What! would you undeceive a child that was
taking physic ? Would you officiously set an enemy right
that was making a wrong attack? Would you help an
enraged man to nis sword ?

ATc, In such cases, c ommon_ SfP^^ HiVprLg one how to
behave.

Euph, Common sense, it seems then, must be consulted
whether a truth be salutary or hurtful, fit to be declared
or concealed.

Ale. How? you would have me conceal and stifle the
truth, and keep it to myself. Is this what you aim at ?

Euph. I only make a plain inference from what you
grant. As for myself, I do not believe your opinions true.
And, although you do, you should not therefore, if you
would appear consistent with yourself, think it necessary
or wise to publis h hurtful truths. W^jat servic e, can it d o
mankind^tgHe^n the motives to virtue, or what damage
to m crease them ?

?. None in the world. But, I must needs say I cannot
reconcile the received notions of a God and Providence to
my understanding; and my nature abhors the baseness
of conniving at a falsehood.

Euph. Shall we therefore appeal to truth, and examine
the reasons by which you are withheld from believing these
points ?

Ak. With all my heart ; but enough for the present.
We will make this the subject of our next conference \

^ Belief that goodness is beautiful
i s not enoufi^h to make men go od :
we a re movigd to do our duty, by
faith in omnipoten t goodness. Is
there reason in this faitE^ by which
morality is vitalised ? This is the
outcome of the Third Dialogue, and

the question which leads into what
follows. Their thoughts and beliefs
about God are what make men
good. Whether religion is reason-
able, and God in any way or degree
knowable by man, is what the inter-
locutors now proceed to discuss.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE'.

'- Prejudices concerning a Deity. 2. Rules laid down by AJciphron to
be observed in proving a God. 3. What sort of proof he expects.

4. Whence we collect the being of other thinking individuals.

5. The same method a fortiori proves the being of God. 6. Alciphron's
second thoughts on this point. 7. God speaks to men. 8. How
distance is perceived by sight. 9. The proper objects of sight at
no distance. 10. Lights, shades, and colours, variously combined,
form a language. 1 1. The signification of this language learned by

- experience. 12. God explaineth Himself to the eyes of men by the
arbitrary use of sensible signs. 13. The prejudice and twofold aspect
of a minute philosopher. 14. God present to mankind, informs,
admonishes, and directs them in a sensible manner. 15. Admirable
nature and use of this Visual Language. 16. Minute philosophers
content to admit a God in certain senses. 17. Opinion of some
who hold, that knowledge and wisdom are not properly in God.
18. Dangerous tendency of this notion. 19. Its original. 20. The
sense of schoolmen upon it. 21. Scholastic use of the terms
*' analogy ' and ^ analogical ' explained : analogical perfections of God
misunderstood. 22. God intelligent, wise, and good, in the proper
sense of the words. 23, Objection from moral €v\\ considered.
24. Men argue from their own defects against a Deity. 25. Religious
worship reasonable and expedient.

I. Early the next morning, as I looked out of my
window, I saw Alciphron walking in the garden with all
the signs of a man in deep thought. Upon which I went
down to him.

In this Dialogue, the transition

'* "l^ade from Ethics to fieli^ ion^

^'^aich is discussed as the alleged

^Preme motive force in conduct.

. ^ have here Berkeley's ^ndica-

ofK- ^^ religion, on th e found ation

^^J^s ownmetaphysicalphilosophy,

^■<^tl' substitutes living Spirit as

the only real S ubstanc e and Power,
for the inscrutable 'substances' and
' causes ' of Materialism, and inter-
prets Natural Law as the outcome
of the perpetual Providence of God.
In sect. 8-15, Euphranor and
Crito rest faith in God on the fact
of Visual Language, or Sense-sym-

154 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Alciphron, said I, this early and profound meditation
puts me in no small fright. How so ? Because I should
be sorry to be convinced there was no God. The thought
of anarchy in nature \ is to me more shocking than in civil
life : inasmuch as natural concerns are more important
than civil; and the basis of all others.

I grant, replied Alciphron^ that some inconvenience may
possibly follow from disproving a God : but as to what you
say of fright and shocking, all that isi nothing but mere
prejudice. Men frame an idea or chimera in their own
minds, and then fall down and worship it> Notions govern
mankind : but of all notions that of God's governing the
world hath taken the deepest root and spread the farthest.
It is therefore in philosophy an heroical achievement to
dispossess this imaginary monarch of his government,
and banish all those fears and spectres which the light of
reason alone can dispel :

Non radii solis, non lucida tela diei
Discutiunt, sed naturae species ratioque^

My part, said I, shall be to stand by, as I have hitherto
done, and take notes of all that passeth during this
memorable event; while a minute philosopher, not six
feet high, attempts to dethrone the Monarch of the
Universe.

holism ; — the universally accepted
ground of helief in the existence of
our fellow men. The Essay towards
a New Theory of Vision, and parti-
cularly the Vindication and Ex-
planation of that Theory, published
the year after the appearance of
Alciphron, ^hoviid. be compared with
those sections.

Sections 16-24 discuss the know-
ableness of God, and in what sense
of the words man is justified in say-
ing that God exists, and is powetful,
intelligent, and good. The Fourth
Dialogue thus involves a criticism
of Atheism and Agnosticism, in
which Euphranor fulfils his pro-
mise, arguing that love of truth
obliges him to accept the theistic
interpretation of the universe. The
conception of the visible world as

a visual language, involved in the

/Essay on Vision, is adopted by

Euphranor in this Dialogue, and

e xpanded into a divine visual lan-

' guage, intelligible by man, and in

which he is continually spoken t<r

vby G6^.

* If God is the principle of phy-
sical and moral order, vitalised and
universalised, as at the centre of
existence, Atheism is necessarily
^ anarchic ' and inconsistent with
the order in external nature on
which even physical science is
based. In rejecting the theistic
postulate of experience the atheist
therefore subverts physical science
as well as religion in a universal
nescience.
' [Lucretius.] — Author.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 155

Alas ! replied Alctphron, arguments are not to be
measured by feet and inches. One man may see more
than a million ; and a short argument, managed by a free-
thinker, may be sufficient to overthrow the most gigantic
chimera.

As we were engaged in this discourse, Crito and Euph-
ranor joined us.

I find you have been beforehand with us to-day, said
Crtto to Alciphron, and taken the advantage of solitude
and early hours, while Euphranor and I were asleep in
our beds. We may, therefore, expect to see atheism
placed in the best light, and supported by the strongest
arguments.

2. A/c. The being of a God is a subject upon which
there has been a world of commonplace, which it is
needless to repeat. Give me leave therefore to lay down
certain rules and limitations, in order to shorten our
present conference. For, as the end of debating is to
persuade, all those things which are foreign to this end
should be left out of our debate.

First then, let me tell you I am not to be persuaded by
metaphysical arguments ; such, for instance, as are drawn
from the idea of an all-perfect being, or the absurdity of
an infinite progression of causes \ This sort of arguments
I have always found dry and jq|une; and, as they are
not suited to my way of thinking, they may perhaps
puzzle, but never will convince me. Secondly, I am not
to be persuaded by the authority either of past or present
ages, of mankind in general, or of particular wise men,
all which passeth for little or nothing with a man of sound
argument and free thought. Thirdly, all proofs drawn
from utility or convenience are foreign to the purpose.
They may prove indeed the usefulness of the notion, but
not the existence of the thing. Whatever legislators or
statesmen may think, truth and convenience are very
different things to the rigorous eye of a philosopher.

And now, that I may not seem partial, I will limit
myself also not to object, in the first place, from anything
that may seem irregular or unaccountable in the works

' As in the Meditations of Descartes, or in Clarke's Demotistration of
the existence and attributes of God,

156 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

of nature, against a cause of infinite power and wisdom \
because I already know the answer you will make, to wit,
that no one can judge o f the symmetry and use of the
parts of an infinite machine, which are all relative to each
other, and to the whole, without being able to comprehend
the entire machine, or the whole universe. And, in the
second place, I shall engage myself not to object against
the justice and providence of a supreme Being from the
evil that befals good men, and the prosperity which is
often the portion of wicked men in this life; because
I know that, instead of admitting this to be an ol^ection
against a Deity, you would make it an argument far*
a future state, in which there shall be such a retn5u6br&
of rewards and punishments as may vindicate theT)i\aa^
attributes, and set all things right in the end. Now, ^ese
answers, though they should be admitted for good one^*
are in truth no proofs of the being of God, but onl>^
solutions of certain difficulties which might be objectecilf
supposing it already proved by proper arguments. ThiiS
much I thought fit to premise, in order to save time aac3
trouble both to you and myself.

Cri. I think that as the proper end of our conference
ought to be supposed the discovery and defence of truth/
so truth may be justified, not only by persuading its
adversaries, but, where that cannot be done, by shewing
them to be unreasonable. Arguments, therefore, which
carry light have their effect, even against an opponent who
shuts his eyes, because they shew him to be obstinate and
prejudiced. Besides, this distinction between arguments
that puzzle and that convince, is least of all observed l>y
minute philosophers, and need not therefore be observed
by others in their favour.— But, perhaps, Euphranor maV
be willing to encounter you on your own terms, in which
case I have nothing further to say.

3. Euph. Alciphron acts like a skilful general, who i^
bent upon gaining the advantage of the ground, and alluring
the enemy out of their trenches. We who believe a God
are entrenched within tradition, custom, authority, and
law. And, nevertheless, instead of attempting to force u3,
he proposes that he should voluntarily abandon these tn^"
trenchments, and make the attack ; when we may act o^

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

157

Blhe defensive with much security and ease, leaving him
Ihe trouble to dispossess us of what we need not resign.
Those reasons {continued he, addressing himself to Alci-
phron) which you have mustered up in this morning's
meditation, if they do not weaken, must establish our belief
of a God ; for the utmost is to be expected from so great
a master in his profession, when he sets his strength to
a point.

'4k. I hold the confused notion of a Deity, or some
invisible power, to be of all prejudices the most unconquer-
^Me, When half-a-dozen ingenious men are got together
wer a glass of wine, by a cheerful fire, in a room well
"ghted, we banish with ease all the spectres of fancy
md education, and are very clear in our decisions. But,
^ 1 was taking a solitary walk before it was broad day-
light in yonder grove, methought the point was not quite
so clear; nor could I readily recollect the force of those
^i^uments which used to appear so conclusive at other
''nies, I had I know not what awe upon my mind, and
seemed haunted by a sort of panic, which 1 cannot other-
ivise account for than by supposing it the effect of prejudice:
br, you must know that I, like the rest oFthe world," was
once upon a time catechised and tutored into the belief of
3 God or Spirit. There is no surer mark of prejudice
'han the believing a thing without reason. What necessity
Ihen can there be that I should set myself the difficult
'ask of proving a negative, when it is sufficient to observe
'hat there is no proof of the affirmative, and that the
admitting it without proof is unreasonable? Prove there-

fore

your opinion ; or, if you cannot, you may indeed

""enain in possession oi it, but you will only be possessed
of a prejudice.

Eupk. Alciphron, to content you we must prove, it
Seems, and we must prove upon your own terms. But,
'n the first place, l et us ste what sort of proo f you ex pect.

Ale. Perhaps 1 may not expect it, but~r will tell you
**at sort of proof I would have r and that is, in short —
*Uch proof as every man of sense requires of a matter of
f^ct, or the existence of any other particular thing. For
"istance, should a man ask why 1 believe there is a king
?f Great Britain? I might answer^ Because I had seen
""n. Or a king of Spain ? Because I had seen those

158 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

who saw him. But as for this King of kings, I neith^^
saw Him myself, or any one else that ever did see Hiin.-
Surely, if there be such a thing as God, it is very Strang"^
that He should leave Himself without a witness ; that men
should still dispute His being; and that there should b^
no one evident, sensible, plain proof of it, without recoursei
to philosophy or metaphysics. A matter of fact is not to
be proved by notions, but by f acts \ This is clear and
full to the point. You see what I would be at. Upon
these principles I defy superstition.

Euph, You believe then as far as you can see ?

Ale. That is my rule of faith.

Euph. How ! will you not believe the existence of things
which you hear, unless you also see them ?

Ale. I will not say so neither. When I insisted on
seeing, I would be understood to mean perceiving in
general. Outward objects make very different impressions
upon the animal spirits, all which are comprised under the
common name of sense. And whatever we canLP£j:c£iye
by any sense we may be sure of. ^

4. Euph. What! do you believe then that there are
such things as animal spirits?

Ale. Doubtless.

Euph. By what sense do you perceive them ?

Ale, I do not perceive them immediately by any of my
senses. I am nevertheless persuaded of their existence,
because I can collect Jt, from their effects, a nd ope rations.
They are the messengers which, running to andTro it^
the nerves, preserve a communication between the soul
and outward objects.

Euph. You admit then the being of a soul ?

* So Hume : * The contrary of
every matter of fact is still possible
because it can never imply a con-
tradiction. That the sun will not
rise to-morrow is no less intelligible
a proposition, and implies no more
contradiction, than the affirmation
that it will rise. If you ask a man
why he believes any matter of fact
which is absent he would give you
a reason; and this reason would be

soffte other fact' (Hume*s InfiiiO^
concerning Understanding, Part I9
sect. 4). But although a present
fact may reasonably prove an absen-^
finite fact, can finite facts prov^
God ? C ^ an infinit e condujo**
be drawnfrom finite prem&esr \^
not God preSTppose^'AS the ton3»-' V
tion of all proof from fact/Sj'B^wj*^
this proof postulates the divii*^
trustworthiness of natural order t

— THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 159

Ale. Provided I do not admit an immaterial substance,
I see no inconvenience in admitting ther e may be su ch
a thing as a soul. A nd this may be no more than a thin
fine texture of subtile parts or spirits residing in the brain.

Euph, I do not ask about its nature. I only ask whether
you admit that there is a principle of thought and action,
and whether it-be perceivable by sense.

Ale. I grant that there is such a principle, and that it is
n ot the object of sense itself, but injerred[from appearan ces
which are perceived by s ense.

Euph. If I understand you rightly, from animal functions
and motions you infer the existence of animal spirits, and
from reasonable acts you infer the existence of a reason-
able soul. Is it not so ?

Ale. It is.

Euph. It should seem, therefore, that the being of things \ ^ (J^
imperceptible to sense may be collected from effects and/tr^
sign's, or.sensihkt^^ *'

Ale. it may.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, is not the soul that which
makes the principal distinction between a real person and
a shadow, a living man and a carcass ?

Ale. I grant it is.

Euph. I cannot, therefore, know that you^ for instance,
are a distinct thinking individual, or a living real man, by /
surer or other jigns than those_from which it can Be V
mferfed" that yp\i liave a_ sj5uPT

Ale. You cannot.

Euph. Pray tell me, are not all acts immediately and
properly perceived by sense reducible to motion ''?

Ale. They are.

Euph. From motions, therefore, you infer a mover or
cause; and from reasonable motions (or such as appear
calculated for a reasonable end) a rational ^ause, sou l or'
spirit ?

Ale. Even so. *

* Accordingly, in strictness, / organised body for the self-con -

cannot see you : I can only see scious person signified by the body,

.sensuous appearances, which sig- ^ The De Motu appears to grant

nify that you, the invisible spiritual that motion is the key to the pheno-

agent or person, are present. But mena of the material world, so far

the materialist jnistakes- the visible . as mechanical science is concerned.

l6o ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

5. Euph. The soul of man actuates but a small body, an
insignificant particle, in respect of the great masses of
nature, the elements, and heavenly bodies, and system
of the world. And the wisdom that appears in those
motions which are the effect of human reason is incom-
parably less than that which discovers itself in the structure
and use of organised natural bodies, animal or vegetable.
A man with his hand can make no machine so admirable
as the hand itself; nor can any of those motipns^jr which
Xrt trace out human reason approach the sEi r anc[ con-
vntrivance of those wonderful motions of the heart, and
brain, and other vital parts, which do not depend on the
will of man.

Ale, All this is true.

Euph, Doth it not follow, then, that from natural motions,
independent of man's will, may be inferred both power
and wisdom incomparably greater than that of the human
soul ?

Ale, It should seem so.

Euph, Further, is there not in natural productions and
effects a visible unity of counsel and design ? Are not the
rules fixed and immoveable? Do not the same laws of
motion obtain throughout ? The same in China and here,
the same two thousand years ago and at this day?

Ale, All this I do not deny. ^. — .

Euph, Is there not also a connexion or x«elatipn between
animals and vegetables, between both aricTtRe elements,
between the elements and heavenly bodies ; so that, from
their mutual respects, influences, subordinations, and uses,
they may be collected to be parts of one whole, conspiring
to one and the same end, and fulfilling tTiesiame design?

Ale. Supposing all this to be true.

\ " Euph, Will it not then follow that this vastly great, or

; infinite power and wisdom must be supposed in one and

,^ the same Agent, Spirit, or Mind ; and that we have at least

as clear, full, and immediate certainty of the being of this

infinitely wise and powerful Spirit, as of any one human

soul whatsoever besides our own ?

Ale, Let me consider : I suspect we proceed too hastily.
What ! Do you pretend you can have the same assurance
of the being of a God that you can have of mine, whom
you actually see stand before you and talk to you ?

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

l6l

Ktiph. The very same, if not greater '.

Ale. How do you make this appear?

Eiiplt, By the person Alciphron is meant an individual
ihinking thing, and not the hair, skin, or visible surface, or
»ny part of the outward form, colour, or shape, of Alciphron,

aIc. This I grant.

Ettph. And, in granting this, you grant that, in a strict
sense, I do not see Alciphron, i.e. that individual thinking
thing, but only such visible signs and tokens as suggest
and infer- the being of that invisible thinking principle
or soul. Even so, in the self-same manner, it seems to
nie that, though I cannot with eyes of flesh behold the
invisible God, yet I do in the strictest sense behold and
perceive by all my senses such signs and tokens, such
efifects and operations, as s uggest, indicate, and demonstrate
a n invisibl £_God — as certainly, and with the same evidencej'
at least, "asany other signs, perceived by sense, do suggest
'9 nie the existence of your sou!, spirit, or thinking prin-
•^iple; which I am convinced of only by a few signs, or
effects, and the motions of one small organised body:
^"lereas I do at all times and in all places perceive
sensible signs which eaince the being of God. The point,
'nerefore, doubted or denied by you at the beginning.
Ilpw seems manifestly to follow from the premises,
throughout this whole inquiry, have we not considered
every step with care, and made not the least advance
"Without clear evidence ? You and I examined and assented
^"^gly to each foregoing proposition : what shall we do
fpeii with the conclusion ? For my part, if you do not
^elp me out, I find myself under an absolute necessity
^f admitting it for true. You must therefore be content
■^^ nee forward to bear the blame, if I live and die in the
"belief of a God ^

6. Ale, It must be confessed, I do not readily find an
*1swer. There seems to be some foundation for what you

' Cf. Ptiaaplis, sett. 147-
^^''«Qggert»nd infer.' Cf. Theory
^' yuion Vmdicaltd, sect. 43.

■ li belief in the existence of
j**tr men thus analogous to lailh
**». the esistence of God? Is not
*«th ta the divine synlhcsis, and in

"JtKBLEV; tUMSB. It.

llic absolute trustworthiness of tlie
Power universally at work, at tlic
root of our trust in the significance
of those visible appearances which
' suggest' the presence of another
self-conscious person \

l62 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

say. But, on the other hand, if the point was so clear
you pretend, I cannot conceive how so many sagacious mer ^
of our sect should be so much in the dark as not to )LViXS^^
or believe one syllable of it.

Euph. O Alciphron, it is not our present business t
account for the oversights, or vindicate the honour, of thos^^
great men the free-thinkers, when their very existence i
in danger of being called in question.

Ale, How so ?

Euph, Be pleased to recollect the concessions you hav
made, and then shew me, if the arguments for a Deity
not conclusive, by what better arguments you can prov
the existence of that thinking thing which in strictne
constitutes the free-thinker.

As soon as Euphranor had uttered these words, Alciphro>
stopped short, and stood in a posture of meditation, whil
the rest of us continued our walk and took two or thre^^
turns, after which he joined us again with a smiling count-
enance, like one who had made some discovery. I hav"^
found, said he, what may clear up the point in dispute,
and give Euphranor entire satisfaction ; I would say 2lti
argument which will prove the existence of a free-thinker,
the like whereof cannot be applied to prove the existence
of jGod. You must know then that your notion of our ,
perceiving the existence of God, as certainly an3 imme-
diately as we do that of a human person, I could by no
means digest, though I must own it puzzled me, till I had
considered the matter. At first methought a particular
structure, shape, or motion was a most certain proof of
a thinking reasonable soul. But a little attention satisfied
me that these things have no necessary connexion with
reason, knowledge, and wisdom ; and that, allowing them
to be certain proofs of a living soul, they cannot be so of
a thinking and reasonable one. Upon second thoughts,
therefore, and a minute examination of this point, I have
found that nothing so much convinces me of the existence
of another person as his speaking to me. It is my hearinf
you talk that, in strict ancl pfiUosophical truth, is to ni
V the bgst argument for your tiing. And this is a pecuU
argument, inapplicable to your purpose; for, you will n
I suppose, pretend that God speaks to man in the sa
clear and sensible manner as one man doth to another '

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

163

7. Euph, How ! is then the impression of sound so
much more evident than that of other senses ? Or, if it
be, is the voice of man louder than that of thunder ?

Ale, Alas ! you mistake the point. What I mean is not
the sound of speech merely as such, but the arbitrary use
of sensible signs, which have no similitude or necessary ^
connexion with the things signified ; so as by the apposite
management of them to suggest and exhibit to my mind
an endless variety of things, differing in nature, time, and
place; thereby informing me, entertaining me, and directing
me how to act, not only with regard to things near and
present, but also with regard to things distant and future.
No matter whether these signs are pronounced or written ;
whether they enter by the eye or ear : they have the same
use, and are equally proofs of an intelligent^ thinking, "
desi gning cause.

Luph, ]ivX what if it should appear that God really
speaks to man ; would this content you ?

Ale, I am for admitting no inward speech, no holy
instincts, or suggestions of light or spirit. All that, you
must know, passeth with men of sense for nothing. If
you do not make it plain to me that God speaks to men
by outward sensible signs, of such sort and in such manner
as I have defined, you do nothing ^

Euph, But if it shall appear plainly that God speaks^
to men by the intervention and use of arbitrary, outward, \
sensible signs, having no resemblance or necessary con-
nexion with the things they stand for and suggest: if
it shall appear that, by innumerable combinations of these
signs, an endless variety of things is discovered and made

* Cf. New Theory of Vtsion, sect.
17, 23, 28, 51, 58-66, 147; Prin-
ciples of Human Knowledge^ sect.
30, 31, 65, 66, &c. ; Theory of
Vision Vindicated, sect, 30, 39, 40,
42-45, &c. ; 5/m, sect. 252-255,
&c. — all of which enforce the arbi-
trariness (relatively to us) of the
relations of co-existence and suc-
cession found to prevail among the
phenomena of nature ; also the
consequent analogy between these
relations, and those of signs to
their meanings, in the spoken and

written languages of mankind, is
illustrated. The relations are * ar-
bitrary * in as far as an exhaustive
interpretation of the changes in
nature transcends human intelli-
gence.

* Alciphron rejects moral and
spiritual experience as evidence of
God, and insists on the need for
evidence in the data of the senses.
But God is already so far pre- ^
supposed, when the data of th cV^
senses are presumed to be intcr -
"pretaole.

M 2

164 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

^ known to us; and that we are thereby instructed or

Kt informed in their different natures; that we are__tau^it

y/and admonished what t o shun, and what to pursueTanH

Y are dire cted how to regulate our motions , and how to act

with respect to things distant from us, as well in time

as place, will this content you ?

Ale. It is the very thing I would have you make out ;
for therein consists the force, and use, and nature of
language.

8. Euph, Look, Alciphron, do you not see the castle
upon yonder hill ?

Ale. I do.

Euph. Is it not at a great distance from you ?

Ale, It is.

Euph, Tell me, Alciphron, is not distance a line turned
end-wise to the eye ^ ?

Ale. Doubtless.

Euph, And can a line, in that situation, project more
than one single point on the bottom of the eye ?

Ale, It cannot.

Euph, Therefore the appearance of a long and of a short
distance is of the same magnitude, or rather of no magni-
tude at all — being in all cases one single point.

Ale. It seems so.

Euph, Should it not follow from hence that distance
is not immediately perceived by the eye ?

Ale. It should.
? Euph. Must it not then be perceived by the mediation
of some other thing ?

Ale. It must.

Euph. To discover what this is, let us examine what
alteration there may be in the appearance of the same object,
placed at different distances from the eye. Now, I find
by experience that when an object is removed still farther
and farther off in a direct line from the eye, its visible
appearance still grows lesser and fainter ; and this change
of appearance, being proportional and universal, seems

^ Cf. New Theory of Vision^ sect. repeat that part of the Essay oh
B-51, with this and with what Ffi«b« which deals with our inter-
follows, regarding Distance. This pretation of the visual signs of
and the four following sections distance (sect. s-5).

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

■65

to me to be that by which we apprehend the \
degrees of distance,

-^Ic. I have nothing to object to this.

-£upb. But littleness or faintness, in their own nature,
s^^m to have no necessary connexion with greater length
of distance ?

-Ak. I admit this to be tnie,

-Eiipli. Will it not follow then that they could never
suggest it but from experience?

^ilc. It will.

£iiph. That is to say — we perceive distance, not im-
'^■ediately, but by mediation of a sign, which hath no
'*^€ness tp_it, or necessary connexion with it, but only
^^ggesfs it from repeated experience, as words do

Ak. Hold, Euphranor: now I think of it, the writers
'*^ optics tell us of an angle made by the two optic axes,
^^hiere they meet in the visible point or object; which
?*^g'e. the obtnser it is the nearer it shews the object
*^ be, and by how much the acuter, by so much the farther
*-^fT; and this from a necessary demonstrable connexion.
, Eiiph. The mind then finds out the distance of things
i' geometry ?
Ak. It doth.

EtipU. Should it not follow, therefore, that nobody could
^ee but those who had learned geometry, and knew some-
*-bing of lines and angles ?

Ak, There is a sort of natural geometry which is got
Without learning.

Eiiph. Pray inform me, Alciphron, in order to frame
a proof of any kind, or deduce one point from another,
is it not necessary that I perceive the co nnexion of th e
ter ms in the premises, and jhe connexion of t he premis es

wi th~the_CQii£;lusion ; and^ in"gen eraT;To ~know~one thing
by means of another, must I not first know that other
thing? When I perceive your meaning by your words,
must I not first perceive the words themselves ? and must
I not know the premises before I infer the conclusion ?
Ale, All this is true.

Eupk. Whoever, therefore, collects a nearer distance

from a wider angle, or a farther distance from an acuter

fcngle, must first perceive the angles themselves. And

l66 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

he who doth not perceive those angles can infer nothing
from them. Is it so or not ?

Ale. It is as you say.

Euph. Ask now the first man you meet whether he
perceives or knows anything of those optic angles? or
whether he ever thinks about them, or makes any infer-
ences from them, either by natural or artificial geometry ?
What answer do you think he would make ?

Ale, To speak the truth, I believe his answer would
be, that he knew nothing of these matters.

Euph. It cannot therefore be that men judge of distance
by angles '.jioTj^ consequently, can there be any force in
the argument you^drew from thence, to prove thatjis-
tance is perceived by means of something which hath
a^'hecessary connexion with it.

Ale. I agree with you.

9. Euph. To me it seems that a man may know whether
. he perceives a thing or no ; and, if he perceives it, whether
it be immediately or mediately : and, if mediately, whether
by means of something like or unlike, necessarily or arbi-
trarily connected with it.

Ale. It seems so.

Euph. And is it not certain that distance is perceived
only by experience ^, if it be neither perceived immediately
by itself, nor by means of any image, nor of any lines and
angles which are like it, or have a necessary connexion
with it ?

Ale. It is.

Euph. Doth it not seem to follow, from what hath been
/said and allowed by you, that before all experience a man
"^ would not imagine the things he saw were at any distance
from him ?

Ale. How ! let me see.

Euph. The littleness or faintness of appearance, or any
other idea or sensation not necessarily connected with
or resembling distance, can no more suggest different
degrees of distance, or any distance at all, to the mind

^ ^ experience/ i.e. of a con- mediately seen and the tactual or
nexion that is independent of the locomotive phenomena signified by
will of man, between what is im- what is immediately seen.

I THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 167

I "('^ich hath not experienced a connexion of the things
I ^'gnifying and signified, than words can suggest notions
I "^fore a man hath learned the language.
' -^k. I allow this to be true.

-£uph. Will it not thence follow that a man born blind,
''*^<d made to see, would, upon first receiving his sight,
la I^e the things he saw not to be at any distance from him,
"*-* t in his eye, or rather in his mind ' ?

-Ale. I must own it seems so. And yet, on the other
'"■^nd, I can hardly persuade myself that, if I were in
^*-*ch a state, 1 should think those objects which I now
*^^ e at so great distance to be at no distance at all.

Eitpli. It seems, then, that you now think the objects
*-* ^sight are at a distance from you ?

Ale. Doubtless I do. Can any one question but yonder
^ ^*stle is at a great distance ?

Euplt. Tell me, Alciphron, can you discern the doors,
^'^'"indows, and battlements of that same castle?

Ale. I cannot. At this distance it seems only a small
*~«Dund tower.

Ejtph. But I, who have been at it, know that it is no
^mall round tower, but a large square building with battle-
*tients and turrets, which it seems you do not see.
Ale. What wil! you infer from thence ?
Euph. 1 would infer that the very object which you
strictly and properly perceive by sight is not that thing
■\vhich is several miles distant.
Ale. Why so?

Etiph. Because a little round object is one thing, and
a great square object is another. Is it not ?
Ale. 1 cannot deny it.

Euph. Tell me, is not the visible appearance alone the
proper object of sight ?
Ale. It is.

What think you now (said Etiphranor, pointing towards
the heavens) of the visible appearance of yonder planet ?
Is it not a round luminous flat, no bigger than a six-
pence ?

Ale. What then ?

Euph. Tell me then, what you think of the planet itself.

^^^^^^^Cf. ^riv Thtory o/Visio.i, 41 Viiidiealioii, 1^-^^^|

l68 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Do you not conceive it to be a vast opaque globe, with
several unequal risings and valleys?

Ale. I do.

Euph* How can you therefore conclude that the proper
object of your sight * exists at a distance ?

Ale, I confess I know not.

Euph, For your further conviction, do but consider that

crimson cloud. Think you that, if you were in the very

place where it is, you would perceive anything like what

you now see ?

i;^^ - — ^Ale By no means. I should perceive only a dark mist.

Euph. Is it not plain, therefore, that neither the castle,
the planet, nor the cloud, which you see here, are those
real ones which you suppose exist at a distance ?

lo. Ale, What am I to think then? Do we see any-
thing at all, or is it altogether fancy and illusion ?

Euph, Upon the whole, it seems the proper objects
of sight are light and colours ^, with their several shades
and degrees ; all which, being infinitely diversified and
combined,, .do form a language wonderfully adapted to
suggest and exhibit to us the distances, figures, situations,
dimensions, and various qualities of tangible objects —
\§^ not by similitude, nor yet by inference of necessary con-

nexion, but by the arbitrary imposition of Providence,
just as words suggest the jthi^iTsignified by them.

Ale. Howl Dq-wc not, strictly speaking, perceive by
sight such things as trees, houses, men, rivers, and the like ?

Euph, We do, indeed, perceive or apprehend those
things by the faculty of sight. But, will it follow from
thence that they are the proper and immediate objects
of sight, any more than that all those things are the
proper and immediate objects of hearing which are signified
by the help of words or sounds ?

Ale. You would have us think, then, that light, shades,

* * the proper object of sight,* ence of the adult. One may ask

i. e. the phenomena which are due whether the adult could read rela-

to the sense of sight aloney before / tions of space into the sensuous

we learn by experience to read / data either of sight or touch, unless

into them phenomena of tactual/ space relations were presupposed

and locomotive experience which! in them.

they signify. This * pure vision *^ ^ Cf. New Theory of Vision, sect,

cannot be revived in the experi- 43.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 169

and colours, variously combined, answer to the several
articulations of sound in language ; and that, by means
thereof, all sorts of objects are suggested to the mind
through the eye, in the same manner as they are suggested
by words or sounds through the ear : that is, neither from
necessary deduction to the judgment, nor from similitude
to the fancy, but purely and solely from experience, custom,
and habit.

Euph. I would not have you think anything more than
the nature of things obligeth you to think, nor submit
in the least to my judgment, but only to the force of truth :
which is an imposition that I suppose the freest thinkers
will not pretend to be exempt from.

Ale. You have led me, it seems, step by step, till I am
got I know not where. But I shall try to get out again,
if not by the way I came, yet by some other of my own
finding.

Here Alciphron, having made a short pause, proceeded
as follows —

II. Answer me, Euphranor, should it not follow from
these principles that a man born blind, and made to see,
would, at first sight, not only not perceive their distance,
but also not so much as know the very things themselves
which he saw, for instance, men or trees? which surely
to suppose must be absurd.

Euph, I grant, in consequence of those principles, which
both you and I have admitted, that such a one would
never think of men, trees, or any other objects that he
had been accustomed to perceive by touch, upon having
his mind filled with new sensations of light and colours,
whose various combinations he doth not yet understand,
or know the meaning of; no more than a Chinese, upon first
hearing the words man and tree would think of the things
signified by them. In both cases, there must be time
and expenence, by repeated ac ts, to acq uire a habit of
k nowing the connexion between the signs and things
signified ; that fs to say, of understanding the language,
wnether of the eyes or of the ears\ And I conceive
no absurdity in all this.

* The office of custom in the latent in the constitution of experi-
evolution of the elements of reason ence is here recognised. 'Custom/

I70 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Ale, I see, therefore, in strict philosophical truth, that
rock only in the same sense that I may be said to hear it,
when the word rock is pronounced.

Euph. In the very same.

Ak. How comes it to pass then that every one shall
say he sees, for instance, a rock or a house, when those
things are before his eyes ; but nobody will say he hears
a rock or a house, but only the words or sounds them-
selves by which those things are said to be signified or
suggested but not heard ^? Besides, if vision be o nly
a language speaking to the eyes, it may be asked, wh en,
did men learn tftis lang uage? To acquire the knowledge
ot so many signs as go to the making up a language is
a work of some difficulty. But, will any man say he hath
spent time, or been at pains, to learn this Language of
Vision ?

Euph, No wonder ; we cannot assign a time beyond our
remotest memory. If we have been all practising this
language, ever since our first entrance into the world :
if the Author of Nature constantly speaks to the eyes
of all mankind, even in their earliest infancy, whenever
the eyes are open in the light, whether alone or in com-
pany: it doth not seem to me at all strange that men
should not be aware they had ever learned a language
begun so early, and practised so constantly, as this of
Vision. And, if we also consider that it is the same
throughout the whole world, and not, like other languages,
differing in different places, it will not seem unaccountable
that men should mistake the connexion between the
proper objects of sight and the things signified by them
to be founded in necessary relation or likeness; or, that
they should even take them for the same things. Hence
it seems easy to conceive why men who do not think
should confound in this language of vision the signs with
the things signified, otherwise than they are wont to do in
the various particular languages formed by the several
nations of men '.

says Pascal, * may be conceived as .... deep almost as life.*

secondary nature, and nature as pri- ^ Cf. New Theory of Vision^ sect,

marycustom.' So too Wordsworth: 46, 47.

* And custom lie upon thee with ' Ibid., sect. 144.
a weight

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 171

la. It may be also worth while to observe that signs,

t'^' ng little con sidered in themselves, or for their own

^ke, but only m their relative capacity, and for the sake

"f those things whereof they are signs, it comes to pass

fliat ihe mind overlooks them, so as to carry its attention

i'nrnediately on to the things signified. Thus, for example,

"1 reading we run over the characters with the slightest

'^^gard, and pass on to the meaning. Hence it is frequent

'Or men to say, they see words, and notions, and things in

"i^ading of a book ; whereas in strictness they see only.

^e characters which suggest words, notions, and things.

"••id, by parity of reason, may we not suppose that men,

^'^t resting in, but overlooking the immediate and proper

f*tfcjects of sight, as in their own nature of small moment,

c^^rry their attention onward to the very things signified,

**^d talk as if they saw the secondary objects? which, in

^•~*ith and strictness, are not seen, but only suggested and

^t^prehended by means of the pti gper obj ects of sight,

^^''luch alone are seen.

Ak. To speak my mind freely, this dissertation grows
*^^dious, and runs into points too dry and minute for
^- gentleman's attention.

I thought, said Crito, we had been told that minute
t>hilosophers loved to consider things closely and minutely.
Ak. That is true, but in so polite an age who would
lie a mere philosopher? There is a certain scholastic
Accuracy which ill suits the freedom and ease of a well-
bred man. But, to cut short this chicane, 1 propound
it fairly to your own conscience, whether you really think
that God Himself speaks every day and in every place to
the eyes of all men.

Euph. That is really and in truth my opinion; and it
should be yours too, if you are consistent with yourself,
and abide by your own definition of language. Since
you c annot de ny that the great Mover and Auth or o t
na ture constantly e.xplaincth Him self to the eyes of men
by the sensible inter\'ention of arbitrary signs, which have
no si militude or connexion with the things signified ; so
as, by compounding and disposing them, to suggest and
exhibit an endless,^
time, and plat
how to act with respes:l-t<T' ttungs t

iLjig aiLu uisposiiig [iiem, to suggest anu
ss ja riet^ of objects, differing in n ature, JJq
; IjherebyMntorming and directing men ^
respe<:l-bT tuings distant and luture, as J

172 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

well as near and present. In consequence, I say, of yo
own sentiments and concessions, you have as much reaso
to think the Universal Agent or God speaks to your eye^,
as you can have for thinking any particular person spealcis
to your ears \

Ale. I cannot help thinking that some fallacy runs
throughout this whole ratiocination, though perhaps I m2Ly
not readily point it out. Hold ! let me see. In langua^^
the signs are arbitrary, are they not ?

Euph, They are.

Ale. And, consequently, they do not always suggest
real matters of fact. Whereas this Natural Langua^^,
as you call it, or these visible signs, do always suggest
things in the same uniform way, and have the same
constant regular connexion with matters of fact : whence
it should seem the connexion was necessary; and, there-
fore, according to the definition premised, it can be r^c^
language. How do you solve this objection ?

Euph, You may solve it yourself by the help of a picture
or looking-glass ^.

Ale. You are in the right. I see there is nothing in it.
I know not what else to say to this opinion, more th^ri
that it is so odd and contrary to my way of thinking that
I shall never assent to it.

13. Euph. Be pleased to recollect your own lectures
upon prejudice, and apply them in the present case.
Perhaps they may help you to follow where reason leads,
and to suspect notions which are strongly rivetted, without
having been ever examined.

Ale. I disdain the suspicion of prejudice. And I d^
not speak only for myself. I know a club of most ir*'
genious men, the freest from prejudice of any men alive*
who abhor the notion of a God, and I doubt not would b^
very able to untie this knot.

' He thus infers the continual the natural incarnation of God, co'^*

omnipresence of the living God in responding to the human organis*^"*

external nature by analogy with in man.

the visible signs of the presence of ^ Cf. New Theory of Vision^ sec^"^

a human being — both of them 45. So also Jonathan Edwar(i^^»

equally revelations of a spiritual Remarks in Mental Philosoplt^^^

agent behind the sensible signs. art. * Existence/ in Appendix "^^^

The visible world is thus taken as Dwight's Memoir. . .

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 173

Upon which words of Alciphron, I, who had acted the
part of an indifferent stander-by, observed to hitn — That
it misbecame his character and repeated professions, to
own an attachment to (he judgment, or build upon the
pi"esumed abilities of other men, how ingenious soever;
and that this proceeding might encourage his adversaries
lo have recourse to authority, in which perhaps they would
find their account more than he'.

Oh ! said Crito, 1 have often observed the conduct of
minute philosophers. When one of them has got a ring
oT disciples round him, his method is to exclaim against
prejudice, and recommend thinking and reasoning, giving
lo understand that himself is a man of deep researches
and close ai^uraent, one who examines impartially, and
concludes warily. The same man, in other company, if he
chance to be pressed with reason, shall laugh at logic, and
assume the lazy supine airs of a fine gentleman, a wit,
a railleur, to avoid the dryness of a regular and exact
inquiry. This double face of the minute philosopher is of
^15* small use to propagate and maintain his notions.
Though lo me it seems a plain case that if a fine gentle-
f^an will shake off authority, and appeal from religion to
•^^ason, unto reason he must go: and, if he cannot go
^^thout leading-strings, surely he had better be led by the
aiJthority of the public than by that of any knot of minute
Philosophers.

W/c Gentlemen, this discourse is very irksome, and
i^edless. For my part, 1 am a friend to inquiry. I am
^'Iling reason should have its full and free scope, I build
?" no man's authority. For my part, I have no interest
"^ denying a God. Any man may believe or not believe
■^ God, as he pleases, for me. But, after all, Euphranor
'^'Jst allow me to stare a little at his conclusions.

J^upb. The conclusions are yours as much as mine, for
J'^U were led to them by your own concessions.

, 1:4. Yoli, it seems, stare to find that God is not far
*"*^*n every one of us ; and that in Him we live, and move,

^P Bui wilh Berkeley's recognition founded on significance in nature

I ' 'Natural change HS virtually Divine are ultimately based on faith in the

j ''Suage, more or lesa interpreted Power or Person universally at

human science, all reaaonings work in nature.

174 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

and have our being'. You, who, in the beginning of this
morning's conference, thought it strange that God shoulci
leave Himself without a witness, do now think it strange
the witness should be so full and clear.

Ale. I must own I do. I was aware, indeed, of a certain
metaphysical hypothesis of our seeing all things in God by
the union of the human soul with the intelligible substance
of the Deity', which neither I, nor any one else could
make sense of. But I never imagined it could be pre-
tended that we saw God with our fleshly eyes as plain sls
we see any human person whatsoever, and that He daily
speaks to our senses in a manifest and clear dialect .

Cyr-fi-As-for that metaphysical hypothesis, I can make
no more of it than you. But I think it plain] this Optic
Language hath a necessary connexion with knowledge,-
wisdom, and goodness \ It is equivalent to a consta jgt
i ^reation^^ betokening an immediate act of power and
providence. It cannot be accounted for by mechanfcal
principles, by atoms, attractions, or effluvia. The in-
stantaneous production and reproduction of so many signs,
combined, dissolved, transposed, diversified, and adapted
to such an endless variety of purposes, ever shifting with
the occasions and suited to them, being utterly inexpKcable
and unaccountable by the laws of motion, by chance, by
fate, or the like blind principles, doth set forth and t estify
the injmediate operation of a spi rit or thij iking being ; and
not merely of a sgmt, which every motion or gravitation
may possibly infeFptJut of one wise, good, and provident
Spirit, which directs and rules and governs the world.
Some philosophers, being convinced of the wisdom and_
power of the Creator, from the make and contrivance of

^ At this view of things God
animates the whole material world,
as a man animates or moves his
own body : sensible things are the
symbol and sacrament of Omni-
present Deity, and nature is essen-
tially supernatural.

^ Malebranche's hypothesis of
the vision of the sensible world in
Gdd, which Berkeley here and
elsewhere disclaims.

^ Cf. sect. 5, and Principles , sect.

147.

* Introduced in second edition.

' He thus postulates * necessai3^
connexion' between physical orde«'
and moral government, but with."
out articulating the connexion. I^
not the perfect goodness of th^
Universal Power presupposed i**
all trust in experience, rather tha^*
logically proved by what we o^"
perience ?

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

175

organised bodies and orderly system of the world, did
nevertheless imagine that he left this system with all its
parts and contents well adjusted and put in motion, as an
artist leaves a clock, to go thenceforward of itself for
a certain period'. B ut this Visual Langua ge prov es^
not a Creator merely, but a pro vident GoyernoTj^ actually 1
and intimately present ^_and attentive to all our interests
an d motions , wno w atches oyer oij r ro"^"^*^j and takes 1
care of our "minutest actions and designs throughout ^the
wjiole course'Qr oi ir" Tlvesy informing, admonishing, and
directing incessantly, in a most evident and sensible
manner. This is truly wonderfuP.

Euph, And is it not so, that men should be encompassed
by such a wonder, without reflecting on it ?

15. Something there is of Divine and admirable in this
Language, addressed to our eyes, that may well awaken
thdlnina, and deserve its utmost attention : — it is learned
^ithsojitti^jiams-i-it expresseth the differences* of things
so^clearly and aptly: it instructs with such facility and
despatch, by one glance of the eye conveying a greater
variety of advices, and a more distinct knowledge of things,
than could be got by a discourse of several hours. And,
while it informs, it amuses and entertains the mind with
such singular pleasure and delight. It is of such excellent
use in giving a stability and permanency to human dis-
course, in recording sounds and bestowing life on dead
languages, enabling us to converse with men of remote
ages and countries. And it answers so apposite to the
uses and necessities of mankind, informing us more
distinctly of those objects whose nearness and magnitude
qualify them to be of greatest detriment or benefit to our
bodies, and less exactly in proportion as their littleness
or distance makes them of less concern to us ^.

* See the Collection of Papers
between Leibniz and Clarke, relat-
ing to the Principles of Natural
Philosophy and Religion (17 17),
PP* 3) 5; in which this illustration
occurs ; also the Systeme Nouveau
de la Nature of Leibniz.

' Under Berkeley's conception
of the reality of the material world,

the Cosmos would relapse into
meaningless abstraction, apart from
the continuous spiritual agency of
God, determined according to
Divine or perfect order, all regu-
lated for the best.

^ Euphranor makes much of the
sense- symbolism in nature as evi-
dence of the constant sensible

176 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Ale. And yet these strange things affect men but little.

Euph. But they are not strange, they are familiar; aim.<i
that makes them be overlooked. Things which rarely
happen strike ; whereas frequency lessens the admiratio:n
of things, though in themselves ever so admirable. Henc^,
a common man, who is not used to think and make re-
flexions, would probably be more convinced of the being
of a God by one single sentence heard once in his life
from the sky than by all the experience he has had of this
Visual Language, contrived with such exquisite skill, so
constantly addressed to his eyes, and so plainly declaring
the nearness, wisdom, and providence of Him with whom
we have to do.

Ale. After all, I cannot satisfy myself how men should
be so little surprised or amazed about this visive faculty,
if it was really of a nature so surprising and amazing.

Euph. But let us suppose a nation of men blind from
their infancy, among whom a stranger arrives, the only
man who can see in all the country; let us suppose this
stranger travelling with some of the natives, and that one
while he foretels to them that, in case they walk straight
forward, in half a hour they shall meet men or cattle, or
come to a house ; that, if they turn to the right and pro-
ceed, they shall in a few minutes be in danger of falling
down a precipice ; that, shaping their course to the left, they
will in such a time arrive at a river, a wood, or a mountain.
What think you ? Must they not be infinitely surprised
that one who had never been in their country before
should know it so much better than themselves ? And would
not those predictions seem to them as unaccountable and
incredible as Prophecy to a minute philosopher ?

Ale. I cannot deny it.

Euph. But it seems to require intense thought to be
able to unravel a prejudice that has been so long forming;
to get over the vulgar errors or ideas common to both
senses; and so to distinguish between the objects of sight
and touch ', which have grown (if I may so say), blenoed

presence of God ; not much of our by miracles presented to the

finding God more fully in the senses.

moral and spiritual life which wells ^ [See the annexed Treatise,

up in inner consciousness, and wherein this point and the whole

may be evoked from dormancy Theory of Vision are more iuUjr

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 177

together in our fancy, as to be able to suppose ourselves

IMictly in the state that one of those men would be in,
ifhe were made to see. And yet this I believe is possible,
^d might seem worth the pains of a little thinking,
especially to those men whose proper employment and
profession it is to think, and unravel prejudices, and
Mnfute mistakes.

Ak, 1 frankly own I cannot find my way out of this
'^a2e, and should gladly be set right by those who see
Oetter than myself.

Cri. The pursuing this subject in their own thoughts
■^ould possibly open a new scene to those speculative
ffc^nclemen of the minute philosophy. It puts me in
*jiiid of a passage in the Psalmist, where he represents
*-*C)d to be covered with light as with a garment, and would
"^^thinks be no ill comment on that ancient notion of
^*^ine eastern sages— that God had light for His body, and
'«~»jthfor His soul".

This conversation lasted till a servant came to tell us
l.^»-« tea was ready: upon which we walked in, and found
*— ;ysicles at the tea-table.

:6. As soon as we sat down, I am glad, said Aldphron,
*^tiat I have here found my second, a fresh man to maintain
^\ar common cause, which, I doubt, Lysicles will think
*^ath suffered by his absence.

Lys. Why so ?

Ak. 1 have been drawn into some concessions you will
>^ot like.

Lys. Let me know what they are.

Ak. Why, that there is such a thing as a God, and that
^Jis existence is very certain.

^plained ; the paradoses of which

Theory, though al: first received

^itb great ridicule by those who

*hink ridicule the test of truth,

'Vere many years afier surprisingly

^onGnned, by a case of a person

•Hade lo see who had been blind

rpora his birth. See PJiiios. Tmns-

oct., No. 40a.]— Author. In the

aulhor's lirst edition this note
^«ndedat 'explained' ; the remainder
^^Ew added ia his second edition.

Bfc"""""" "

To both these editions the Essay
on VUion was annexed, but was
withdrawn along with this note in
the third edition.

' This whole argument rests on
dsU of sense, and takes little
account of the data and inevitable
presuppositions of moral experi-
ence, without which scientific infer-
ences from setisuous phen
are.unlrustworthy.

178 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Lys. Bless me ! How came you to entertain so wild a
notion ?

Ale. You know we profess to follow reason wherever it
leads. And in short I have been reasoned into it.

Lys. Reasoned ! You should say, amused with words,
bewildered with sophistry.

Euph. Have you a mind to hear the same reasoning that
led Alciphron and me step by step, that we may examine
whether it be sophistry or no ?

Lys. As to that I am very easy. I guess all that can be
said on that head. It shall be my business to help my
friend out, whatever arguments drew him in.

Euph. Will you admit the premises and deny the con-
clusions ?

Lys. What if I admit the conclusion ?

Euph, How ! will you grant there is a God ?

Lys. Perhaps I may.

Euph. Then we are agreed.

Lys. Perhaps not.

Euph. O Lysicles, you are a subtle adversary. I know
not what you would be at.

Lys. You must know then that at bottom the being of
a God is a point in itself of small consequence, and a man
may make this concession without yielding much. The
great point is what sense the word God is to be taken in \
The very Epicureans allowed the being of gods ; but then
they were indolent gods, unconcerned with human affairs.
Hobbes allowed a corporeal God : and Spinosa held the
universe to be God. And yet nobody doubts they were
staunch free-thinkers. I could wish indeed the word
God were quite omitted; because in most minds it is
coupled with a sort of superstitious awe, the very root of
all religion. I shall not, nevertheless, be much disturbed,

* This is still the * great point.*
Does 'God' connote conscious life
and voluntary agency; or is the
word only a name for abstract re-
lations of reason^ presupposed in
intelligible experience ; or not even
for this, but for an Unknowable
at the root of all? Also is the
term rightly applied to the * gods '
of Polytheism, or to any merely

superhuman agent, as distinguish-
ed from the Absolute Being, the
ground of all that exists or can
exist 1 Is it applicable to a Power
acting capriciously, not absolute-
ly and necessarily good, and not
making for the goodness of all
persons that exist ? Is religion only
fear or awe of any power that is
superhuman ?

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

179

though the name be retained, and the being of a God
allowed in any sense but in that of a Mind which knows all
things, and beholds human actions, like some judge or
magistrate, with infinite observation and intelligence. The
belief of a God in this sense fills a man's mind with
scruples, lays him under constraints, and embitters his
very being : but in another sense it may be attended
with no great ill consequence. This I know was the
opinion of our great Diagoras, who told me he would
never have been at the pains to find out a demonstration
that there was no God \ if the received notion of God had
been the same with that of some Fathers and Schoolmen.
EupK Pray what was that ?

17. Lys. You must know, Diagoras, a man of much
reading and inquiry, had discovered that once upon a time
the most profound and speculative divines, finding it
impossible to reconcile the attributes of God, taken in the
common sense, or in any known sense, with human reason,
and the appearances of things, taught that the words
knowledge^ wisdom^ goodness^ and such like, when spoken
of the Deity, must be understood in a quite different sense
from what they signify in the vulgar acceptation, or from
anything that we can form a notion of or conceive*.
Hence, whatever objections might be made against the
attributes of God they easily solved — by denying those
attributes belonged to God, in this, or that, or any known
particular sense or notion; which was the same thing
as to deny they belonged to Him at all. And thus deny-
ing the attributes of God, they in effect denied His being,
though perhaps they were not aware of it.

^ He elsewhere attributes this
* demonstration * to Anthony Collins.
Surely neither atheism nor theism
is scientifically demonstrable. The
alternative would now seem to
be between an agnostic issue of
the final problem, as even relatively
insoluble, and tacit recognition of
a theistic faith in experience, iden-
tical in fact with causal faith, in the
deepest meaning of causality. AH
reasoning about things or persons

presupposes the ultimate reason-
ableness or divineness of the uni-
verse of reality.

' It has been held by eminent
theologians, e. g. recently by Dean
Mansel, that knowledge^ wisdontySind
goodnesSf in our meaning of thosQ
terms, are applicable to God only
analogically, or at least relatively
to our highest point of view, whjile
they are inadequate to Deity at the
absolute or divine point of view.

N 2

l8o ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Suppose, for instance, a man should object that futu
contingencies were inconsistent with the Foreknowled
of God, because it is repugnant that certain knowled
should be of an uncertain thing : it was a ready and i
easy answer to say that this may be true with respe
to knowledge taken in the common sense, or in any sen^e
that we can possibly form any notion of; but that themre
would not appear the same inconsistency between ttxe
contingent nature of things and Divine Foreknowledge,
taken to signify somewhat that we know nothing of, whicrli
in God supplies the place of what we understand by
knowledge ; from which it differs not in quantity or degree
of perfection, but altogether, and in kind, as light doth
from sound;— and even more, since these agree in that
they are both sensations; whereas knowledge in God
hath no sort of resemblance or agreement with any notion
that man can frame of knowledge. The like may be said
of all the other attributes, which indeed may by this means
be equally reconciled with everything or with nothing^.
But all men who think must needs see this is cutting knots
and not untying them. For, how are things reconciled
with the Divine attributes when these attributes them-
selves are in every intelligible sense denied ; and, con-
sequently, the very notion of God taken away, and nothing
left but the name, without any meaning annexed to if?
In short, the belief that there is an unknown subject o^
attributes absolutely unknown * is a very innocent doctrine ^
which the acute Diagoras well saw, and was therefor
wonderfully delighted with this system*.

i8. For, said he, if this could once make its way an
obtain in the world, there would be an end of all natura
or rational religion, which is the basis both of the Jewis
and the Christian: for he who comes to God, or enteri

^ Like the supposed material
substance against which Berkeley
argues in his Principles, and Dia-
logues,

* That 'our line is,' as Hume
says, *too short to fathom such
Immense abysses ' as are involved
in a complete solution of the final
problem of existence from the

point of view of omniscience, is nt
reason for dissolving our foitb--
venture in omnipotent wisdom an
goodness, in the highest meanin
of those words that is attainabl
iif the progressive evolution
thought — if that faith-venture is
basis of human experience.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE l8l

himself in the church of God, must first believe that there
^s a God in some intelligible sense; and not only that
'nere is sometliing in general, without any pro per notinn^
t hough never so inadequate, of any of its qualities o r
Jttriljules : for this maybe fate, or chaos, or plastic nature,
or anything else as well as God. Nor will it avail to say
— There is something in this unknown being analogous
to knowledge and goodness ; that is to say, which produceth
thos e effects which w e could not conceive to be produced
Oy men, m any degree , without "Knowledge and~goodness.
ror, this is In 1 act to give up the point in dispute between
theists and atheists — the question having always been,
not whether there was a Principle (which point was allowed
oy all philosophers, as well before as since Anaxagoras),
°ut whether this Principle was a rails, a thinking intelligent
being : that is to say, whether that order, and beauty, and
"Se, visible in natural effects, could be produced by any-
thing but a Mind or Intelligence, in the proper sense of
'he word? And whether there must not be true, real, and
P'"oper knowledge, in the First Cause ? We will, therefore,
Acknowledge that all those natural effects which are
vulgarly ascribed to knowledge and wisdom proceed from
^ being in which there is, properly speaking, no knowledge
pr wisdom at all, but only something else, which in reality
js the cause of those things which men, for want of know-
'"g better, ascribe to what they call knowledge and wisdom
^nd understanding. You wonder perhaps to hear a man
"-•f pleasure, who diverts himself as I do, philosophize at
*">« rate. But you should consider that much is to be
Bc>t by conversing with ingenious men, which is a short
)^a-y to knowledge, that saves a man the drudgery of read-
'^g and thinking.

And, now we have granted to you that there is a
*^od in this indefinite sense, I would fain see what use
3'Ou can make of this concession. You cannot argue from
"Hknown attributes, or, which is the same thing, from
?Jtributes in an unknown sense. You cannot prove that
>»c»d is to be loved for His goodness, or feared for His
J'Jstice, or respected for His knowledge: all which con-
^^<quences, we own, would follow from those attributes
^^dmitted in an intelligible sense. But we deny that
^g*ciEe or any other consequences can be drawn from

l82 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

attributes admitted in no particular sense, or in a sen .^
which none of us understand. Since, therefore, nothiirm^
can be inferred from such an account of God, aboxj
conscience, or worship or religion, you may even make
the best of it. And, not to be singular, we will use tine
name too, and so at once there is an end of atheism.

Euph. This account of a Deity is new to me. I do not
like it, and therefore shall leave it to be maintained by
those who do.

19. Cri, It is not new to me. I remember not long
since to have heard a minute philosopher triumph upon
this very point ; which put me on inquiring what founda-
tion there was for it in the Fathers or Schoolmen. And,
for aught that I can find, it owes its original to those
writings Which have been published under the name of
Dionysius the Areopagite ^ The author of which, it must
be owned, hath written upon the Divine attributes in
a very singular style. In his treatise of the Celestial
Hierarchy ^ he saith that God is something above all
essence and life, xmlp iraa-av ovcriav Kol ^mrjv ; and again, m
his treatise of the Divine Names ', that He is above all
wisdom and understanding, virlp iraa-av o-cx^tav #cal (Tvv€(nvt
ineffable and innominab/ef dpprjro^ koX avtaw/jjoq ; the wisdom
of God he terms an unreasonable, unintelligent, and

foolish wisdom ; ttjv aXoyov, Kol avow, Koi fjuopav froffM^*

But then the reason he gives for expressing himself in
this strange manner is, that the Divine^vvisdonLua. the

* The books attributed to Diony-
sius the Areopagite, who was said
to be a contemporary of the Apos-
tles, and first Bishop of Athens,
were in vogue among the mystics
of the Middle Ages. They belong
probably to the third or fourth
century, if not to a later period.
They are entitled De Hierarchia
Ccelestiy De Notninibus Divim's^ De
Hierarchia EccIesiasHca, and De
TheologiaMystica, Various editions
appeared in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries. In common
with some of the early Fathers of
the Church, they allege, in strong
language, man's necessary ignor-

»._.'«

ance of God, and deny that ovoio.
can properly be affirmed of Deity.
God, according to the pseudo-
Dionysius, transcends all negation
and all affirmation {yirlp vaaav koi
dipaipeffiv Kal Oiaiv), The hyper-
bolical language of Dionysius, and
even of some Fathers of the Church,
hardly falls short of the paradox of
Oken,^ which identifies God with
Nothing, He is vwepdyvwaTOi fmor^
than unknown), <ivi;ira/MfTo?(without
existence), dvovaios (unsubstantial)-

* [De Hierarch, Ccelest cap. i^
Author.

» [De Notn, Div. cap. 7-]"
Author.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 183

cau se of all reason, wisdom^ and understanding, and
ffierein are contained the treasures jpf all wisdom and
knowledge. He calls God vrripao^o^ and wcpfws ; as if
wisdom and life were words not worthy to express the
Divine perfections : and he adds thaF the attributes unin-
telligent and unperceiving must be ascribed to the Divinity,
not KttT IAA€t</rtv, by way of defect, but Kaff wcpox^v, by way
of eminency ; which he explains by our giving the name
of darkness to light inaccessible. And, notwithstanding
the harshness of his expressions in some places, he affirms
over and over in others— that God knows all things ; not
that He is beholden to the creatures for His knowledge,
but by knowing Himself, from whom they all derive their
being, and in whom they are contained as in their cause.
It was late before these writings appear to have been
known in the world ; and, although they obtained credit
during the age of the Schoolmen, yet, since critical learn-
ing hath been cultivated, they have lost that credit, and
are at this day given up for spurious, as containing several
evident marks of a much later date than the age of
Dionysius. Upon the whole, although this method of
growing in expression and dwindling in notion, of clearing
up doubts by nonsense, and avoiding difficulties by run-
ning into affected contradictions, may perhaps proceed from
a well-meant zeal,, yet it appears not to be according to
knowledge; and, instead of reconciling atheists to the
truth, hath, I doubt, a tendency to confirm them in their
own persuasion. It should seem, therefore, very weak
and rash in a Christian to adopt this harsh language of an
apocryphal writer preferably to that of the Holy Scriptures.
I remember, indeed, to have read of a certain philosopher,
who lived some centuries ago, that used to say — if these
supposed works of Dionysius had been known to the
primitive Fathers, they would have furnished them ad-
mirable weapons against the heretics, and would have
saved a world of pains. But the event since their dis-
covery hath by no means confirmed his opinion.

It must be owned, the celebrated Picus of Mirandula \

* John Picus, Count of Miran- philosophy of Plato to the books

dula, who lived in the fifteenth of Moses. The disputation in

century, sought to harmonize Plato which he proposed to defend his

and Aristotle, and referred the famous nine hundred theses never

184 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

among his nine hundred conclusions (which that prina
being very young, proposed to maintain by public dlispu
tion at Rome), hath this for one — to wit, that it is mc^x^e
improper to say of God, He is an intellect or intelligdit
Being, than to say of a reasonable soul that it is an ang^I :
which doctrine it seems was not relished. And Picus,
when he comes to defend it, supports himself altogether
by the example and authority of Dionysius, and in effect
explains it away into a mere verbal difference — affirming
that neither Dionysius nor himself ever meant to deprive
God of knowledge, or to deny that He knows all thing^s ;
but that, as reason is of kind peculiar to man, so by intel-
lection he understands a kind or manner of knowing
peculiar to angels; and that the knowledge which is in
God is more above the intellection of angels than angel
is above man. He adds that, as his tenet consists with
admitting the most perfect knowledge in God, so he would
by no means be understood to exclude from the Deity
intellection itself, taken in the common or general sense,
but only that peculiar sort of intellection proper to angels,
which he thinks ought not to be attributed to God any
more than human reason. Picus', therefore, though he
speaks as the apocryphal Dionysius, yet, when he explains
himself, it is evident he speaks like other men. And,
although the forementioned books of the Celestial Hierarchy
and of the Divine Names, being attributed to a saint and
mart3T of the apostolical age, were respected by the School-"
men, yet it is certain they rejected or softened his harsh*-
expressions, and explained away or reduced his doctrine ^
to the received notions taken from Holy Scripture an«
the light of nature.

20. Thomas Aquinas expresseth his sense of this poi'*^
in the following manner. All perfections, saith he, derive^^
from God to the creatures are in a certain higher sens^j
or (as the Schoolmen term it) eminently in God. Whep*-'
ever therefore, a name borrowed from any perfection i^^^
the creature is attributed to God, we must exclude fror^*^
its signification everything that belongs to the imperfec^^^

took place. They were published ' \Pic, Mirand, in Apohg, p. i^ -^'

at Rome in i486. cd. Bas.] — Author.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

185

manner wherein that attribute is found in the creature.
Whence he concludes that knowledge in God is not a habit
but a pure act\ And again, the same Doctor observes
that our intellect gets its notions of all sorts of perfections
from the creatures, and that as it apprehends those per-
fections so it signifies them by names. Therefore, saith
he, in attributing these names to God we are to consider
two things : first the perfections themselves, as goodness,
life, and the like, which are properly in God ; and secondly,
the manner which is peculiar to the creature, and cannot,
strictly and properly speaking, be said to agree to the
Creator \

And although Suarez ', with other Schoolmen, teacheth
that the mind of man conceiveth knowledge and will to
be in God as faculties or operations, by analogy only
to created beings, yet he gives it plainly as his opinion
that when knowledge is said not to be properly in God it
must be understood in a sense including imperfection, such
as discursive knowledge, or the like imperfect kind found
in the creatures * : and that, none of those imperfections
in the knowledge of men or angels belonging to the formal
notion of knowledge, or to knowledge as such, it will not
thence follow that knowledge, in its proper formal sense,
may not be attributed to God. And of knowledge taken
in general for the clear evident understanding of all truth,
he expressly affirms that it is in God, and that this was
never denied by any philosopher who believed a God'.
It was, indeed, a current opinion in the schools that even
Being itself should be attributed analogically to God and
the creatures. That is, they held that God, the supreme,

* [Sww. T/teolog. Part I, quest,
xiv. art. i.] — Author.

' [/6fV/. quest, xiii. art. iii.] —
Author.

^ Suarez, the Spanish Thomist,
who died in 161 7. See his Dis-
puiationes Metaphysicce^ xxx, * Quid
Deus Sit'

* This implies that discursive
knowledge, or reasoning (included
in knowledge as that term is
applicable to man) is an * imper-
fection ' inevitable to finite intelli-

gence, but inconsistent with omni-
scient intuition. I f we were able
to know all things in all their
relations in a single intellectual
view, discursive thought or reason-
ing would seem to be superfluous.
Man advances in knowledge
through the medium of what is
supposed to be already known, i.e.
by means of premisses in which
conclusions are virtually contained.
^ \Suam^ Dis, Meiaph. torn. II.
disp. XXX. sect. 15.] — Author.

l86 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

independent, self-originate cause and source of all bein jg s
must not be supposed to exist in the same sense vri.th
created beings; not that He exists less truly, propeirij;
or formally than they, but only because He exists in a
more eminent and perfect manner ^

21. But, to prevent any man's being led, by mistaking
the scholastic use of the terms analogy and analogical^ into
an opinion that we cannot frame in any degree a true and
proper notion of attributes applied by analogy, or, in the
school phrase, predicated analogically, it may not be amiss
to inquire into the true sense and meaning of those words.
Every one knows that analogy is a Greek word used by
mathematicians to signify a similitude of proportions. For
instance, when we observe that two is to six as three is to
nine, this similitude or equality of proportion is termed
analogy. And, although proportion strictly signifies the
habitude or relation of one quantity to another, yet, in
a looser and translated sense, it hath been applied to
signify every other habitude ; and, consequently, the term
analogy comes to signify all similitude of relations or
habitudes whatsoever. Hence the Schoolmen tell us there
is analogy between intellect and sight; forasmuch as
intellect is to the mind what sight is to the body, and that
he who governs the state is analogous to him who steers
a ship. Hence a prince is analogically styled a pilot,
being to the state as a pilot is to his vessels

For the further clearing of this point, it is to be observed
that a twofold analogy is distinguished by the Schoolmen
— metaphorical and proper. Of the first kind there are
frequent instances in Holy Scripture, attributing human
parts and passions to God. When He is represented as
having a finger, an eye, or an ear; when He is said to
repent, to be angry, or grieved; every one sees that
analogy is metaphorical. Because those parts and passions,
taken in the proper signification, must in every degree
necessarily, and from the formal nature of the thing;
include imperfection. When, therefore, it is said— the

* That is to say, life in the Uni- we are manifested, through inward

versal Power is mysteriously above, consciousness, to ourselves

not belowj the personal conscious ^ [Wide Cajetan, de Nam. AhqUoS'

life we experience, and in which cap. 3.] — Author.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

187

finger of God appears in this or that event, men of common
sense mean no more but that it is as truly ascribed to God
as the works wrought by human fingers are to man : and
so of the rest. But the case is different when wisdom
and knowledge are attributed to God. Passions and
senses, as such, imply defect; but in knowledge simply,
or as such, there is no defect \ Knowledge, therefore, in
the proper formal meaning of the word, may be attributed
to God proporiwnably, that is, preserving a proportion to
the infinite nature of God ^ We may say, therefore, that
as God is infinitely above man, so is the knowledge of God
infinitely above the knowledge of man, and this is what
Cajetan calls analogia proprie facta. And after this same
analogy we must understand all those attributes to belong
to the Deity which in themselves simply, and as such,
denote perfection. We may, therefore, consistently with
what hath been premised, affirm that all sorts of perfection
which we can conceive in a finite spirit are in God, but
without any of that allay ' which is found in the creatures.
This doctrine, therefore, of analogical perfections in God,
or our knowing God by analogy, seems very much mis-
understood and misapplied by those who would infer from
thence that we cannot frame any direct or proper notion,
though never so inadequate, of knowledge or wisdom, as
they are in the Deity ; or understand any more of them
than one born blind can of light and colours *.

^ But this does not forbid that in
human knowledge there must be
something which bars our attain-
ment of the unity supposed in
Omniscience, and which obliges
us, as reasonable beings, to ^ leave
many things abrupt,' to use Bacon's
words. The Infinite Reality may
be necessarily inexplicable in our
* little systems',' and if so attempts
to reach the perfect explanation
must be irrational.

^ What does this seemingly im-
portant qualification imply ?

' 'allay' — alloy. So Bacon.

* Whether man can have only
this analogical knowledge of God
was much discussed in the early

part of last century. Among other
replies to Toland's Chtistianity not
Mysterious (1696) was a Letter by
Peter Browne, which appeared in
1699. It is there maintained that
our only possible conception of God
and the divine attributes is by a
divine analogy with our experience
of ourselves and of the things of
sense, and that this metaphorical
conception is sufficient for all
human purposes. In 1709, Arch-
bishop King published a Sermon
on the Consistency of Predestination
and Foreknowledge with the Freedom
of Man's Will, which he defended,
professedly on the same foundation
of analogy, but in a manner which

l88 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

22. And now, gentlemen, it may be expected I should
ask your pardon for having dwelt so long on a point of
metaphysics, and introduced such unpolished and un-
fashionable writers as the Schoolmen into good company;
but, as Lysicles gave the occasion, I leave him to answer
for it.

Lys. I never dreamt of this dry dissertation. But, if
I have been the occasion of discussing these scholastic
points, by my unluckily mentioning the Schoolmen, it was
my first fault of the kind, and I promise it shall be the
last. The meddling with crabbed authors of any sort is
none of my taste. I grant one meets now and then with
a good notion in what we call dry writers, such a one for
example as this I was speaking of, which I must own
struck my fancy. But then, for these we have such as
Prodicus or Diagoras, who look into obsolete books, and
save the rest of us that trouble.

Cri. So you pin your faith upon them ?

Lys. It is only for some odd opinions, and matters ox
fact, and critical points. Besides, we know the men to
whom we give credit : they are judicious and honest, ancJ
have no end to serve but truth. And I am confident som^
author or other has maintained the forementioned notion,
in the same sense as Diagoras related it.

Cri, That may be. But it never was a receivedjiQtioii ^
and never will, so long as men believe a God : th e sam^
arguments that prove a first cause proving an intelHgeii t
cause ; — intelligent, I say, in the proper sense ; wise and
good in the true and formal acceptation of the words-
Otherwise, it is evident that every syllogism brought to

seemed to imply that our highest
conceptions of God are necessarily
untrue. Bishop Browne defends
at great length his account of
the manner in which God can
be knowable by man, first in his
Procedure^ Extenij and Limits of
Human Understanding (1728), and
again in Things Diw'ne and Super-
natural conceived by Analogy with
Things Natural and Human (1733).
Browne, who was Provost of
Trinity College, Dublin (1699-
1710), when Berkeley was under-

graduate and Fellow, was after-
wards Bishop of Cork and Ross
till his death in 1735. Tennemann
says that Berkeley's Aldpkron was
written as a reply to him, although
this applies only to a few sections
in this Dialogue. Skelton's ZWS^
to the Authors of the Divine Analogy
and the Minute Philosopher^ in voLV.
of Skelton's Works, is one. of
several other publications to which
the question here discussed gave
rise at the time.

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE

189

prove those attributes, or, which is the same thing, to prove"^
the being of a God, will be found to consist of four terms,
and consequently can conclude nothing*. But for yourj
part, Alciphron, you have been fully convinced that God
is a thinking intelligent being, in the same sense withi
other spirits; though not in the same imperfect manner]
or degree *.

23. Ale. And yet I am not without my scruples: for,
with knowledge you infer wisdom, and with wisdom good-
ness. [' Though I cannot see that it is either wise or good
to enact such laws as can never be obeyed.

Cri. Doth any one find fault with the exactness of
geometrical rules, because no one in practice can attain
to it ? The p erfection of ajrule is useful, even though it is
not reached. Many approach what all may i ail short of.

Ale] But how is it possible to conceive God so good
and man so wicked ? It may, perhaps, with some colour
be alleged that a little soft shadowing of evil sets off the
bright and luminous parts of the creation, and so con-
tributes to the beauty of the whole piece ; but for blots so
large and so black it is impossible to account by that
principle. That there should be so much vice, and so
little virtue upon earth, and that the laws of God's kingdom
should be so ill observed by His subjects, is what can
never be reconciled with that surpassing wisdom and
goodness of the supreme Monarch *.

* Four terms in * a syllogism,' a
common fallacy, due to ambiguity
in one of its terms. He charges
Bishop Browne with this, because
Browne holds that wisdom , know-
ledge^ and goodness in God are
not wisdom, knowledge, and good-
ness, in any human meaning of
the terms, but only words which
stand for mysteries that transcend
human conception.

* Berkeley here makes our
knowledge of God similar in
origin and nature to our knowledge
of other finite spirits — different
only in degree. He conceives the
universe as a hierarchy of spirits,

with the Divine Spirit supreme.
In the practical spirit of his
philosophy, he evades the per-
plexities in which Infinity in-
volves finite conception. Cf. Dial.
III. sect. 10, II, and Dial. VII.
passim ; also New Theory of VisioHj
sect. 81, 123 ; Principles of Human
Knowledge^ sect. 119, 123-132;
Analyst, passim.

^ Added in second edition.

* This is the obtrusive mystery
of the evil which we find in us
and around us on this planet, which
is a matter of fact, not merely a
speculative incompetence in us.

igo ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, would you argue that a st^te
was ill administered, or judge of the manners of its ciiizens,
by the disorders committed in the jail or dungeon ?

Ale. I would not.

Euph. And, for aught we know, this spot, wi th the few
pinne rs on it^ bears no grea ter proportion tn tHFuniveree
of intelli ge nces than a dungeon doth to a kipgdom.lT
seems We are led not only by revelation, but by comffiSir
sense, observing and inferring fronTthe analogy of visible
things, to conclude there are innumerable orders of inte l-
ligen t beings more happy and~more per fect than mah;
^ose life IS but a span, and whose place, this TSTthly
globe," IS buT a' point, in respect of the whole system of
God's creation. We are dazzled, indeed, with the glory
and grandeur of things here below, because we know no
better. But, I am apt to think, if we knew what it was to
be an angel for one hour, we should return to this world,
though it were to sit on the brightest throne in it, with
vastly more loathing and reluctance than we would now
descend into a loathsome dungeon or sepulchre \

24. Cri. To me it seems natural that such a weak,
passionate, and short-sighted creature as man should be
ever liable to scruples of one kind or other. But, as this
same creature is apt to be over-positive in judging, and
over-hasty in concluding, it falls out that these difficulties
and scruples about God's conduct are made objections to
His being ^ A"H ^^ V^^^ /".omf^ t^ arg^^^ fr^m thfir^l^"
de fects agains t th e Divine perfections. And, as the views
and humours bt men are ditterent and often opposite, you
may sometimes see them deduce the same atheistical con-

* Astronomers tell us of thirty
millions of observed stars or suns,
with, as we may suppose, attendant
planetary systems ; many, if not all,
it may be, the homes of sentient
beings and moral agents. With
the conception thus suggested of
the population of moral agents in
existence, we are apt to ask
* What is man, that Thou art
mindful of him ? * — in forgetfulness
of the universality of providential
order, which implies perfect adap-

tation of each to the whole, how-
ever insignificant each may seem.
The law of gravitation does not
overlook the grain of sand, and this
law is only a subordinate in the
infinite providential order.

' This mitigation of the mystery
of sorrow and sin found in the
sentient life and the morally re-
sponsible agents on this planet is
more in the spirit of Butler's than
of Browne's * analogy/

THE FOURTH DIALOGUE 191

elusions from contrary premises. I knew an instance of
this in two minute philosophers of my acquaintance, who
used to argue each from his own temper against a Provi-
dence. One of them, a man of a choleric and vindictive
spirit, said he could not believe a Providence, because .
London was not swallowed up or consumed by fire from
heaven ; the streets being, as he said, full of people who
shew no other belief or worship of God but perpetually
pra3'ing that He would damn, rot, sink, and confound
them. The other, being of an indolent easy temper, con-
cluded there could be no such thing as Providence ; for that
a being of consummate wisdom must needs employ himself
better than in minding the prayers and actions and little
interests of mankind *.

Ale, After all, if God have no passions, how can it be
true that vengeance is His? Or how can He be said to
be jealous of His glory ? ^

Cru We believe that God executes vengeance without ]
revenge, and is jealous without weakness, just as the mind ( J
of man sees without eyes, and apprehends without hands. \

25. Ale, To put a period to this discourse, we will grant^
there is a God in this dispassionate sense : but what then ?
What hath this to do with Religion or Divine worship ?
To what purpose are all these prayers, and praises, and
thanksgivings, and singing of psalms, which the foolish
vulgar call serving God ? What sense, or use, or end is
there in all these things ?

Cri, We worship God, we praise and pray to Him : not
because we think that He is proud of our worship, or fond
of our praise or prayers, and affected with them as man-
kind are; or that all our service can contribute in the

least degree to His haj^I^ilirgg nr gnp^ ; hnf hpraiiiy 1^^

good for us to be so disposed towards God : because it is ^ 1/
just and ri^ht. and suitable to t he nature'ot thi pg^T'^ "^
becoming the relation we stand in to our supreme Lord
and Governor.

Ale, If it be good for us to worship God, it should seem
that the Christian Religion, which pretends to teach men

* Is not the universe as perfectly greatest thing and person and
adapted to the least as to the event?

192 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

the knowledge and worship of God, was of some use
benefit to mankind.

Cn. Doubtless.

Ale, If this can be made appear, I shall own myself
much mistaken.

Crt\ It is now near dinner-time. Wherefore, if y4^
please, we will put an end to this conversation for tht
present, and to-morrow morning resume our subject \

* Perhaps the preceding Dia-
logue insufficientiy recognises the
position of the inquirer who feels
the difficulty of definingjiuj
tglligence as intermediate between
agnostic nes cience ^d_a fully,
compreliende'd God. God totally
unknowable under the condi-
tions of human knowledge cannot
engage faith : God fully compre-
hensible under human conditions
is not God, and can be only a
superhuman spirit. A visible God^
whose existence is proved by the
data of the senses, is not God:
Omnipotent Go odness is neither
presented to tEe senses^ nor is it
a logica l COBdusion Irom empi rical
data of sense. Is Uod not an in-
evitaKIej tacit if not conscious,
presupposition, involved in all in^
ferences from sensuous or any

other data ? For aU real inferences
;; est upon the ^Tfisumption tha t
external nature and human nature
— tne universe, m short — ^is abso-

lutely trustworthy, and cannot m
The ^Hfl put US to contusion, intei -
iprfiiaiiY r*^ i^^yfl]|j in otber

words, its fundamental divinity
must be assumed as the foundation
of all reasoning, and cannot other*
wise be proved by reasoning.

That we are living or having
our being in Omnipotent Goodness
is thus the fundamental Faith,
latent in man, which becomes more
conscious and explicit in the pro-
vidential progress of the indivi-
dual and the race. Christianity
claims to be its deepest, and truest,
and most powerful manifestation.
Its claim is discussed in the three
following Dialogues.

'-Minute philosophers join in the cry, and follow the scent, of others.
3. Worship prescribed by the Christian religion suitable to God and
loan. 3. Power and influence of the Druids. 4. Excellency and
usefulness of tbe Christian religion. 5. It ennobles mankind, nnd
makes them happy. 6. Religion neither bigotry nor superstition.
J. Physicians and physic for the soul. 8. Character of the clergy,
g. Natural religion and human reason not to he disparaged. 10. Ten-
dency and use of the Gentiie religion. Ji. Good efTects of Christi-
anity, la. Englishmen compared with ancient Greeks and Romans.
13. The modern practice of duelling. 14. Character of the old
Romans, how to be formed. 15. Genuine fruits of the Gospel. 16.
Wars and factions not an effect of the Christian religion. 17. Civil
rage and massacres in Greece and Rome. 18. Virtue of the ancient
Greeks. 19. Quarrels of polemical divines, ao. Tyranny, usurpa-
tion, and sophistry of Ecclesiastics, ai. The universities censured.
23, Divine writings of a certain modern critic. 33. Learning the
effect of religion. 34. Barbarism of the schools. 35. Restoration of
learning and polite arts, to whom owing. a6. Prejudice and ingrati-
tude of minute philosophers. 07. Their pretensions and conduct
inconsistenL 38. Men and brutes compared with respect to religion.
ag. Christianity the only means to establish natural religion. 30.
Free-thinkers mistake their talents; have a strong imagination.
31. Tithes and church- lands. 33. Men distinguished from human
creatures. 33. Distribution of mankind into birds, beasts, and fishes.
34. Plea for reason allowed, but unfairness taxed. 35. Freedom
a blessing, or a curse, as it is used. 36. Pricstcrail; not the reigning

evil.

I. We amused otirselves next day every one to his fancy
till nine of the clock, when word was brought that the
tea-table was set in the library, which is a gallery on the
ground-floor, with an arched door at one end opening into
a walk of limes ; where, as soon as we had drunk tea, we

' The discussion here passes
(ram theism in general to theism
in its Christian form. The utility
of Christianity and its institutions
is the subject of the Fifth Dia-
. Faith in God as God appears

happy, more than any of the many
oilier forms of religious faith. This
is the thesis of Euphranor in the
following Dialogue. The argument
for the unique superiority of Chris-

t94 ALCiPrtROK OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

were tempted by fine weather to take a walk which le
us to a small mount of easy ascent, on the top where^/
we found a seat under a spreading tree. Here we had
a prospect on one hand of a narrow bay or creek of the
sea, enclosed on either side by a coast beautified with rocks
and woods, and green banks and farm-houses. At the
end of the bay was a small town, placed upon the slope
of a hill, which, from the advantage of its situation, made
a considerable figure. Several fishing-boats and lighters,
gliding up a^d down on a surface as smooth and bright
as glass, enlivened the prospect. On the other side, we
looked down on green pastures, flocks, and herds basking
beneath in sunshine, while we, in our superior situation,
enjoyed the freshness of air and shade \

Here we felt that sort of jojrful instinct which a rural
scene and fine weather inspire; and proposed no small
pleasure in resuming and continuing our conference with-
out interruption till dinner. But we had hardly seated
ourselves and looked about us when we saw a fox run by
the foot of our mount into an adjacent thicket. A few
minutes after, we heard a confused noise of the opening
of hounds, and winding of horns, and the roaring of
country squires. While our attention was suspended by
this event, a servant came running, out of breath, and told
Crito that his neighbour Ctesippus, a squire of note, was
fallen from his horse, attempting to leap over a hedge,
and brought into the hall, where he lay for dead. Upon
which we all rose, and walked hastily to the house, where
we found Ctesippus just come to himself, in the midst of
half-a-dozen sun-burnt squires, in frocks, and short wigs,
and jockey-boots. Being asked how he did, he answered
it was only a broken rib. With some difficulty Crito per-
suaded him to lie on a bed till the chirurgeon came.
These fox-hunters, having been up early at their sport,
were eager for dinner, which was accordingly hastened.

tianity in its individual and social
influence may be compared with
Tyndal's Christianity as Old as the
Creation, a Republication of the Re-
ligion of Nature (1730), a treatise
which seems to have been in view
of Butler in his Analogy, as well as
of Berkeley in this and the following

Dialogue. That the comparative
Science of Religions was unknown
in Berkeley's day is apparent in
the discussion.

' This is a picture of the town
of Newport in Rhode Island, and
of Narragansett Bay as seen from
Honyman*s Hill.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE

'ey passed the afternoon in a loud rustic mirth, gave
^*"oof of their religion and loyalty by the healths they
^ank, talked of hounds, and horses, and elections, and
^■^untry fairs, till the chirurgeon, who had been employed
^tiout Ctesippus, desired he might be put into Crito's
'^Oach, and sent home, having refused to stay all night'.

Our guests being gone, we reposed ourselves after the
fatigue of this tumultuous visit, and next morning assembled
^ain at the seat on the mount.

Now Lysicles, being a nice man and a bel esprit, had an
infinite contempt for the rough manners and conversation
of fox-hunters, and could not reflect with patience that he
had lost, as he called it, so many hours in their company.
I flattered myself, said he, that there had been none of
this species remaining among us : strange that men should
be diverted with such uncouth noise and hurry, or find
pleasure in the society of dogs and horses! How much
more elegant are the diversions of the town !

There seems, replied Euphranor, to be some resem-
blance between fox-hunters and free-thinkers ; the former
exerting their animal faculties in pursuit of game, as you
gentlemenemploy your intellectuals in the pursuit of truth.
The kind of amusement is the same, although the object
be different.

L.ys. I had rather be compared to any brute upon earth
than a rational brute.

Cri. You would then have been less displeased with my
friend Pythocles, whom I have heard compare the common
sort of minute philosophers not to the hunters but the
hounds. For, said he, you shall ofien see among the dogs
a loud babbler, with a bad nose, lead the unskilful part
of the pack, who join all in his cry without following any
scent of their own, any more than the herd of free-thiniters
follow their own reason.

2. But Pythocles was a blunt man, and must never have
known«such reasoners among them as you gentlemen, who
can sit so long at an argument, dispute every inch of

' This spirited picture of a fox
chase is characteristic of Rhode
laland when Berkeley lived there.

196 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

ground, and yet know when to make a reasonable con-
cession.

Lys. I do not know how it comes to pass, but methiiiir5
Alciphron makes concession for himself and me too. For
my own part, I am not altogether of such a yielding temper;
but yet I do not care to be singular neither.

Cri, Truly, Alciphron, when I consider where we are
got, and how far we are agreed, I conceive it probable we
may agree altogether in the end. You have^irantfid that

a life of YJrtr^ ^'^ npnn nU J i-rn nw t ^ <i 1i^ihTnpnc mncf rnn-
d ucive bot h_t<^ thf g^"**^^^ ^"^ parfimla^ gn^^ of ir^i^pkind ;

and you allow that the beauty of virtue alone is not a
sufficient motive with mankind to the practice of it. This
Jed you to acknowledge that the belief of a God would
be very useful in the world ; and that, consequently, you
should be disposed to admit any reasonable proof of His
being: which point hath been proved, and you have
admitted the proof.

If then we admit a Diyinity^why not d ivine worship ?
And if worship^_why not reli gion to teach this worship ?
And if a reli gion, why nr^rfhp rTiriQfian^ if a better canno t
be a ssigned , and it be already established by the laws of
our country, and handed down to us from our forefathers?
Shall we believe a God, and not pray to Him for future
benefits, nor thank Him for the past ? Neither trust in His
protection, nor love His goodness, nor praise His wisdom,
nor adore His power ? And if these things are to be done,
can we do them in away more suitable to the dignity of
God or man that is prescribed by the Christian religion?

Ale, I am not, perhaps, altogether sure that religion
must be absolutely bad for the public : but I cannot bear
to see policy and religion walk hand in hand. I do not
like to see human rights attached to the divine. I am
for no pontifex maximuSy such as in ancient or in modern
Rome ; no high-priest, as in Judea; no royal priests, as in
Egypt and Sparta ; no such things as Dairos of Japan, or
Lamas of Tartary \

3. I knew a late witty gentleman of our sect wno wa3
a great admirer of the ancient Druids ^ He had a mortal

* This section is one of the ' Probably Toland, whose Cn'/rcal

passages of which * Sporus' com- Hisioiy of the Celtic Religion (1725)
plains. contains an account of the Druids.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE I97

antipathy to the present established religion, but used to
say he should like well to see the Druids and their religion
restored, as it anciently flourished in Gaul and Britain;
for it would be right enough that there should be a number
of contemplative men set apart to preserve a knowledge
of arts and sciences, to educate youth, and teach men the
immortality of the soul and the moral virtues. Such, said
he, were the Druids of old, and I should be glad to see
them once more established among us.

Cru How would you like, Alciphron, that priests should
have power to decide all controversies, and adjudge pro-
perty, distribute rewards and punishments; that all who
did not acquiesce in their decrees should be excommuni-.
cated, held in abhorrence, excluded from all honours and
privileges, and deprived of the common benefit of the laws ;
and that now and then a number of la3mien should be
crammed together in a wicker-idol, and burnt for an offer-
ing to their pagan gods? How should you like living
under such priests and such a religion?

Ale. Not at all. Such a situation would by no means
agree with free-thinkers.

Cri, And yet such were the Druids and such their re^*
ligion, if we may trust Caesar's account of them \

Lys. I am now convinced more than ever there ought
to be no such thing as an established religion of any kind.
Certainly all the nations of the world have been hitherto
out of their wits. Even the Athenians themselves, the
wisest and freest people upon earth, had I know not what
foolish attachment to their established church. They
offered, it seems, a talent as a reward to whoever should
kill Diagoras the Melian, a free-thinker of those times,
who derided their mysteries : and Protagoras, another of
the same turn, narrowly escaped being put to death, for
having wrote something that seemed to contradict their
received notions of the gods. Such was the treatment
our generous sect met with at Athens. And I make no
doubt that these Druids would have sacrificed many a
holocaust of free-thinkers. I would not give a single
fartning to exchange one religion for another. Away with
all together, root and branch, or you had as good do

' [Z?^J5f//o ^a//wo, Lib. VI.. 16. ]-^AuTHOR.

198 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

nothing. No Druids or priests of any sort for me : I set
no occasion for any of them.

4. Euph, What Lysicles saith puts me in mind of th
close 01 our last conference, wherein it was agreed i
the following to resume the point we were then entere-of
upon : — to wit, the use or benefit of the Christian religiorm^
which Alciphron expected Crito should make appear.

Cri, I am the readier to undertake this point, because
I conceive it to be no difficult one, and that one great mark
of the truth of Christianity is, in my mind, its tendency to
do good, which seems the north star to conduct our judg-
ment in moral matters, and in all things of a practical
nature; moral or practical truths being ever connected
with universal benefit. But, to judge rightly of this matter,
we should endeavour to act like Lysicles upon another
occasion, taking into our view the sum of things, and con-
sidering principles as branched forth into consequences to
the utmost extent we are able. We are not so much to
regard the humour, or caprice, or imaginary distresses
of a few idle men, whose conceit may be offended though
their conscience cannot be wounded ; but fairly to consider
the true interest of individuals, as well as of human society-
Nqw, the Christian religion, considered as a fountain of
light, and joy, and peace; as a source of faith, and hope, ..
and charity (and that it is so will be evident to Whoever *'
takes his notion of it from the gospel), must needs be
a principle of happiness and virtue. And he who sees not
that the destroying the principles of good actions must
destroy good actions sees nothing: and he who, seeing
this, shall yet persist to do it, if he be not wicked, who is ?

5. To me it seems the man can see neither deep-aer far,
who is not sensible of his own misery, sinfulness, and
dependence; who doth not perceive that this present
world is not designed or adapted to make rational souls
happy ; who would not be glad of gettin g into a better
state ; and who would not be overjoyed to find that the
road leading thither was the love of God and man, the
practising every virtue, the living reasonably while we are
here upon earth, proportioning our esteem to the value
of things, and so using this world as not to abuse it. For

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE igg

;his IS what Christianity requires. It neither eryoins the
nastiness of the Cynic, nor the insensibility of the Stoic.
Ca n there be a hif^^pr amhiHnn than to overcome the
world, or "a wiser than jn niihHiic ourselves, or. a more
comforta ble doct rine than the remission of sins, or a more
joyful prospect than that of having our base nature renewed
and assimilated to the Deity, our being made fellow-citizens
with angels, and sons of God ? Did ever Pythagoreans,
or Platonists, or Stoics, even in idea or in wish, propose
to the mind of man purer means, or a nobler end ? How
great a share of our happiness depends upon hope'! How
totally is this extinguished by the minute "philosophy!
On the other hand, how is it cherished and raised by the
gospel ! Let any man who thinks in earnest but consider
these things, and then say which he thinks deserveth best
of mankind — he who recommends, or he who runs down
Christianity? Which he thinks likelier to lead a happy
'ife, to be a hopeful son, an honest dealer, a worthy
patriot— he who sincerely believes the gospel, or he who
lielieves not one tittle of it ; he wjjo aims at being a child
°^ God, or he who is contented to be thougRt, and to^be,
one of Epicurus's hogs? And, in fact, do but scan the
characters, and observe the behaviour of the common sort
°^ men on both sides : observe, and say which live most
^Sreeably to the dictates of reason ? How things should
°^i the reason is plain ; how they are, I appeal to fact,

6. A/c. It is wonderful to observe how things change
^Ppearance, as they are viewed in different lights, or by
different eyes. The picture, Crito, that I form of religion
'S Very unlike yours, when I consider how it unmans the
^°ul, filling it with absurd reveries, and slavish fears;
how it extinguishes the gentle passions, inspiring a spirit
**' malice, and rage, and persecution ; when I behold bitter
^^entments and unholy wrath in those very men who
P^^ach up meekness anci charity to others,

Cr/. It is very possible that gentlemen of your sect may
think religion a subject beneath their attention ; but yet
'^ Seems that whoever sets up for opposing any doctrine
should know what it is he disputes against. Know, then,
Inat religion is the virtuous mean between incredulity and
^"perstition. We do not therefore contend for super-

200 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

stitious follies, or for the rage of bigots. What we plead J-^

/for is, religion against 4Drof9neness, law against c onfusio n^ ^
virtue against vice, the hope of a Christian against, th^^.
despondency of an atheist. I will not justify bitter resent- ^^
ments and unholy wrath in any man, much less in si ^
Christian, and least of all in a clergyman. But, if sallies ,»
of human passion should sometimes appear even in tL ^
best, it will not surprise any one who reflects on tl» c
sarcasms and ill manners with which they are treate*d
by the minute philosophers. For, as Cicero somewhere
observes, Habet qiienaam aculeum coiitumelia, quern pa/i
prtidentes ac viri boni diffidllime possutit. But, although
you might sometimes observe particular persons, pro-
fessing themselves Christians, run into faulty extremes of
any kind, through passion and infirmity, while infidels
of a more calm and dispassionate temper shall perhaps
behave better — yet these natural tendencies on either side
prove nothing, either in favour of infidel principles, or
against Christian. If a believer doth evil, it is owing
to the man, not to his belief And if an infidel doth good,
it is owing to the man, and not to his infidelity.

7. Lys. To cut this matter short, I shall borrow an
allusion to physic, which one of you made use of against
our sect. It will not be denied that the clergy -pass for
physicians of the soul, and that religion is a sort ofroedicine
which they deal in and administer. If then souls in great
numbers are diseased and lost, how can we think the
physician skilful, or his physic good? I t is a comm on
comp^amt that vice incr eases, and men grow daily more-
and more wicked. If a shepherd's flock be diseased
or unsound, who is to blame but the shepherd; iov
neglecting, or not knowing how to cure them ? A fi^
therefore for such shepherds, such physic, and sucl^
physicians, who, like other mountebanks, with great gravity^
and elaborate harangues, put off their pills to the people-*
who are never the better for them.

Eupli. Nothing seems more reasonable than this reinarl'^ >
that men should judge of a physician and his physic l>J3'
its effect on the sick. But pray, Lysicles, would y» *J
judge of a physician by those sick who take his physi^"
and follow his prescriptions, or by those who d ■ -^ '

ho do not? JKl

THE FIFTEI DIALOGUE 201

' ijfs. Doubtless by those who do.

£uph. What shall we say then, if great numbers refuse
to take the physic, or instead of it take poison of a direct
contrary nature, prescribed by others, who make it their
business to discredit the physician and his medicines, to
hinder men from using them, and to destroy their effect
by drugs of their own ? Shall the physician be blamed
foj- the miscarriage of those people?

Ays. By no means.

£.uph. By a parity of reason, should it not follow that
the tendency of religious doctrines ought to be judged
of by the effects which they produce, not upon all who
liear them, but upon those only who receive or believe
tViem?
-- Lys. It seems so.

Euph. Therefore, to proceed fairly, shall we not judge
of the effects of religion by the religious, or faith by
f>e]ievers, of Christianity by Christians.

8. Lys. But I doubt these sincere believers are very few.
Eupli. But will it not suffice to justify our principles,
'C in proportion to the numbers which receive them, and
the degree of faith with which they are received, they
produce good effects? Perhaps the number of believers
3re not so few as you imagine ; and if they were, whose
'ault is that so much asof those who make it their professed
^ndeavour to lessen that number? And who are those
"^^ the minute philosophers ?

Lys. I tell you it is owing to the clergy themselves,
'o the wickedness and corruption of clergymen.

■Euph. And who denies but there may be minute philo-
sophers even among the clergy?

Cri. In so numerous a body it is to be presumed there
^'"e men of all sorts. But, notwithstanding the cruel
""^proaches cast upon that order by their enemies, an
^<lUal observer of men and things will, if I mistake not,
"^ inclined to think those reproaches owing as much to
■^^her faults as those of the clergy; especially if he con-
^'ders the declamatory manner of those who censure them.

E.uph. My knowledge of the world is too narrow for
•"^ to pretend to judge of the virtue, and merit, and liberal
attainments of men in the several professions. Besides,

202 AIXIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER ^H

I should not care for the odious work of comparison.
But I may venture to say the clergy of this country
where I hve are by no means a disgrace to it ; on the con-
trary, the people seem much the better for their exam-
ple and doctrine. But supposing the clei^ to be (what
all men certainly are) sinners and faulty; supposing you
might spy out here and there among them even great ,
crimes and vices, what can you co nclude against the pr o- —
fession itself from its "iTn worthy pro fessor s, any mor&s
than Irom the pride, pedantry; snS bad lives of soni^=
philosophers against philosophy, or of lawyers agains ^
law?

['g. Cri. It is certainly right to judge of principles fronn
their effects ; but then we must know them to be effects
of those principles. It is the very method I have observed
with respect to religion and the minute philosophy. And
l_can -honestly av-er that I ne ver kn ew any m ajL-Or-faniily

frow worse .ui prDpottion .as ^hey-gpe w r el igio us; but
have often observed that minute philosophy is the worst
thing that can get into a family, the readiest way to im-
poverish, divide, and disgrace it.]

A/c, By the same method of tracing causes from their
effects, I have made it my observation that the love of
truth, virtue, and the happmess of mankind are specious
pretexts, but not the inward principles that set divines
at work : else why should they affect to abuse human
reason, to disparage natural religion, to traduce the philo-
sophers, as they universally do?

Cri. Not so universally perhaps as you imagine. A
Christian, indeed, is for confining reason within its due
bounds ; and so is every reasonable man. If we are
forbid meddling with unprofitable questions, vain philo-
sophy, and science falsely so called, it cannot be thence
inferred that all inquiries into profitable questions, useful
philosophy, and true science are unlawful. A minute
philosopher may indeed impute, and perhaps a weak
brother may imagine, those inferences, but men of sense
will never make them. God is the common father of
lights; and all knowledge really such, whether natural

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE

203

oi- revealed, is derived from the same source of light
and truth. To amass together authorities upon so plain
a point would be needless. It must be owned some men's
attributing too much to human reason hath, as is natural,
made others attribute too little to it. But thus much is
generally acknowledged— that there is a natural religion,
wJiich may be discovered and proved by the light of
reason, to those who are capable of such proofs. But
it rnu st be withal acknow ledged that precepts and praclfis'
jromheaven^are i;iconiparab!y better suited to popular
mprovement and the good of society than the reasonings
of" pliilo^o^heis ; and, accordingly, we do not find that
natural "or rational religion, as such, ever became the
popular national religion of any country'.

10. Ale. It cannot be denied that in all heathen countries
there have been received, under the colour of religion,
a World of fables and superstitious rites. But I question
whether they were so absurd and of so bad influence.
as is vulgarly represented, since their respective legis-
lators and magistrates must, without doubt, have thought
them useful.

Cri, It were needless to inquire into all the rites and
notions of the Gentile world. This hath been largely
done when it was thought necessary. And whoever thmks
'* Worth while may be easily satisfied about them. But
?s to the tendency and usefulness of the heathen religion
'I' general, I beg leave to mention a remark of St. Augus-
'ine's", who observes that the heathens in their religion
had no assemblies for preaching, wherein the people were
^'j be instructed what duties or virtues the gods required,

philosopher may shew the rational
incvitablencss of the presupposi-
tion. Constatently with this, divioe
revelation presented in Christ may
awaken latent (socalled) natural
religion in desrees and ways other-
wise unattainable, making theistic
faith more obvionsly reasonable and
spiritually satisfying than it could
be otherwise.

■ [Zf» Civi/a/i Dti, Lib. IL]—

AUTHOK.

' Ho^

dis-

''"Kuish 'revealed' from 'natural
knowledge of God, seeing that ii
^^ preceding Dialogue he has re
Presented God as revealing Himsel
j" Us — speaking to us — in the in
Klligibie signs that are presentei
looureycsl ' Natural or laliona
"^"'eion' does not originate in 'thi
■■'asonings of philosophers,' if it ii
■^iily pnsiififiosed in a/I reasoning
', although thi

about what i:

204 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

no place or means to be taught what Persius* exho
them to learn : —

Disciteque 6 miseri, et causas cognoscite rerum.
Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur.

Ale. This is the true spirit of the party, never to alio
a grain of use or goodness to anything out of their ov<^^
pale ; but we have had learned men who have done justicrc
to the religion of the Gentiles.

Cri. We do not deny that there was something yo^^f^^l
in the old religions of Rome and Greece, and some other
pagan countries. On the contrary, we freely own they
produced some good effects on the people. But then these
good effects were owing to the truths contained in those
false religions: the truer therefore the more useful I
believe you will find it a hard matter to produce any
useful truth, any moral precept, any salutary principle
or notion, in any Gentile system, e ither of religion or

philosophy W^^C-i^. i.S not rnmp^f>hpn<^fif| in »h^ f'^hm'^i'an^

.and eitner enforced by stronge r yno*^''^^°p nr filipr^''*'^^
by T)etter .authnhfy, or carriea to a higher point of per-
fection.

II. Ale. Consequently you would have us think our-
selves a finer people than the ancient Greeks or Romans.

Cru If by finer you mean better, perhaps we are ; and
if we are not, it is not owing to the Christian religion,
but to the want of it.

Ale. You say ' perhaps we are.' I do not pique myself
on my reading : but should be very ignorant to be capable
of being imposed on in so plain a point. What ! compare
Cicero or Brutus to an English patriot, or Seneca to
one of our parsons ! Then that invincible constancy and
vigour of mind, that disinterested and noble virtue, that
adorable public spirit you so much admire, are things
in them so well known, and so different from our manners^
that I know not how to excuse your perhaps. Euphranor,
indeed, who passeth his life in this obscure corner, may
possibly mistake the characters of our times, but you
who know the world, how could you be guilty of such
a mistake?

Cri. O Alciphron, I would by no means detract from

' \Sat. III.]— Author.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 205

the noble virtue of ancient heroes. But I observe those
great men were not the minute philosophers of their times ;
that the best principles upon which they acted are com mon
t o^ them with Christia ns; of whom it would be no difficult
matter to assign, it not in our own times, yet within the
compass of our own history, many instances in every kind
of worth and virtue, public or private, equal to the most
celebrated of the ancients. Though perhaps their story
might not have been so well told, set off with such fine
lights and colourings of style, or so vulgarly known and
considered by every schoolboy. But though it should be
granted that here and there a Greek or Roman genius,
bred up under strict laws and severe discipline, animated
to public virtue by statues, crowns, triumphal arches, and
such rewards and monuments of great actions, might
attain to a character and fame beyond other men : yet
this will prove only that they had more spirit, and lived
under a civil polity more wisely ordered in certain points
than ours ; which advantages of nature and civil institution
will be no argument for their religion, or against ours.
On the contrary, it seems"^irhrvihcible proof of the power
and excellency of the Christian religion that, without the
help of those civil institutions and incentives to glory,
it should be able to inspire a phlegmatic people with the
noblest sentiments, and soften the rugged manners of
northern boors into gentleness and humanity; and that
these good qualities should become national, and rise
and fall in proportion to the purity of our religion, as
it approaches to, or recedes from, the plan laid down
in the gospel.

12. To make a ri^lU judgment of the effects of the
Christian religion, let us take a survey of the prevailing
notions and manners of this very country where we live,
and compare them with those of our heathen predecessors.

Ale, I have heard much of the glorious light of the
gospel, and should be glad to see some effects of it in
my own dear country, which, by the bye, is one of the
most corrupt and profligate upon earth, notwithstanding
the boasted purity of our religion. But it would look
mean and diffident to affect a comparison with the bar-
barous heathen, from whence we drew our original. If

ao6 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

you would do honour to your religion, dare to mak^
with the most renowned heathens of antiquity.

Crt. It is a common prejudice to despise the presen_^ t,
and overrate remote times and things. Something » — ^f
this seems to enter into the judgments men make of tl^f
Greeks and Romans. For, though it must be alIowc</
those nations produced some noble spirits, and gre^t
patterns of virtue, yet, upon the whole, it seems to me,
they were much inferior, in point of real virtue and good
morals, even to this corrupt and profligate nation, as you
are now pleased to call it in dishonour to our religion ;
however you may think fit to characterize it when you
would do honour to the minute philosophy. This, I think,
will be plain to any one who shall turn off his eyes from
a few shining characters, to view the general manners
and customs of those people. Their insolent treatment of
captives, even of the highest rank and softer sex, their
unnatural exposing of their own children, their bloody
gladiatorian spectacles, compared with the common notions
of Englishmen, are to me a plain proof that our minds
are much softened by Christianity. Could anything be
more unjust than the condemning a young lady to the
most infamous punishment and death for the guilt of her
father, or a whole family of slaves, perhaps some hundreds,
for a crime committed by one ? Or more abominable
than their bacchanals and unbridled lusts of every kind?
which, notwithstanding all that has been done by minute
philosophers to debauch the nation, and their successful
attempts on some parts of it, have not yet been matched
among us, at least not in every circumstance of impudence
and effrontery. While the Romans were poor they were
temperate ; but, as they grew rich, they became luxurious
to a degree that is hardly believed or conceived by us.
It cannot be denied the old Roman spirit was a great
one. But it is as certain there have been numberless
examples of the most resolute and clear courage in Britons,
and in general from a religious cause. Upon the whole,
it seems an instance of the greatest bUndness and in-
gratitude that we do not see and own the exceeding great
benefits of Christianity, which, to omit higher considera-
tions, hath so visibly softened, polished, and emfaelli sbed
our manners.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 207

Ale, O Crito ! we are alarmed at cruelty in a foreign
shape, but overlook it in a familiar one. Else how is it
possible that you should not see the inhumanity of that
barbarous custom of duelling, a thing avowed, and toler-
ated, and even reputable among us ? Or that, seeing this,
you suppose our Englishmen of a more gentle disposi-
tion than the old Romans, who were altogether strangers
to it ?

Cri. I will by no means make an apology for every Goth
that walks the streets, with a determined purpose to murder
any man who shall but spit in his face, or give him the lie.
Nor do I think the Christian religion is in the least
answerable for a practice so directly opposite to its pre-
cepts, and which obtains only among the idle part of the
nation, your men of fashion ; who, instead of law, reason,
or religion, are governed by fashion. Be pleased to con-
sider that what may be, and truly is, a most scandalous
reproach to a Christian country, may be none at all to the
Christian religion : for the Pagan encouraged men in
several vices, but the Christian in none.

Ale. Give me leave to observe that what you now say is
foreign to the purpose. For, the question, at present, is
not concerning the respective tendencies of the Pagan and
the Christian religions, but concerning our manners, as
actually compared with those of ancient heathens, who,
I aver, had no such barbarous custom as duelling.

Cri. And I aver that, bad as this is, they had a worse :
and that was poisoning. By which we have reason to
think there were many more lives destroyed than by this
Gothic crime of duelling : inasmuch as it extended to all
ages, sexes, and characters, and as its effects were more
secret and unavoidable ; and as it had more temptations,
interest as well as passion, to recommend it to wicked men.
And for the fact, not to waste time, I refer you to the
Roman authors themselves.

Lys. It is very true. Duelling is not so general a
nuisance as poisoning, nor of so base a nature. This
crime, if it be a crime, is in a fair way to keep its ground
in spite of the law and the gospel. The clergy never
preach against it, because themselves never suffer by it :
and the man of honour must not appear against the means
of vindicating honour.

2o8 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

CrL Though it be remarked by some of your sect, th
the clergy are not used to preach against duelling, y
I neither think the remark itself just, nor the
assigned for it. In effect, one half of their sermons, 2^ jj
that is said of charity, brotherly love, forbearance, mee^Sf.
ness, and forgiving injuries, is directly against this wick^^
custom ; by which the clergy themselves are so far fn>x»
never suffering, that perhaps they will be found, all thiiig:$
considered, to suffer oflener than other men.

Lys. How do you make this appear ?

Cri. An observer of mankind may remark two kinds of
bully, the fighting and the tame, both public nuisances;
the former (who is the more dangerous animal, but by
much the less common of the two) employs himself wholly
and solely against the laity, while the tanie species exert
their talents upon the cXtrgy, The qualities constituent of
this tame bully are natural rudeness joined with a delicate
sense of danger. For, you must know, the force of inbred
insolence and ill manners is not diminished, though it
acquire a new determination, from the fashionable custom
of calling men to account for their behaviour. Hence you
may often see one of these tame bullies ready to buret
with pride and ill-humour, which he dares not vent, till
a parson has come in the way to his relief. And the man
of raillery, who would as soon bite off his tongue as break
a jest on the profession of arms in the presence of a military
man, shall instantly brighten up, and assume a familiar air
with religion and the church before ecclesiastics. Dorcon,
who passeth for a poltroon and stupid in all other com-
pany, and really is so, when he is got among clergymen
affects a quite opposite character. And many Dorcons
there are, who owe their wit and courage to this passive
order.

14. Ale, But to return to the point in hand, can yoi^
deny the old Romans were as famous for justice and in^
tegrity as men in these days for the contrary qualities ?

Cru The character of the Romans is not to be take jr»
from the sentiments of TuUy, or Cato's actions, or ^
shining passage here and there in their history, but frorj^
the prevailing tenpr of their lives and notions. Now, *^
they and our modern Britons were weighed in this sam.^

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 209

equal balance, you will, if I mistake not, appear to have
been prejudiced in favour of the old Romans against your
own country— probably because it professeth Christianity.
Whatever instances of fraud or injustice may be seen m
Christians carry their own censure with them, in the care
that is taken to conceal them, and the shame that attends
their discovery. There is, even at this day, a sort of
modesty in all our public councils and deliberations. And
I believe the boldest of our minute philosophers would
hardly undertake, in a popular assembly, to propose any-
thing parallel to the rape of the Sabines, the most unjust
usage of Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus, or the ungrateful
treatment of Camillus ; which, as a learned father observes,
were instances of iniquity agreed to by the public body of
the Romans. And if Rome in her early days were capable
of such flagrant injustice, it is most certain she did not
mend her manners as she grew great in wealth and empire,
having produced monsters in every kind of wickedness, as
far exceeding other men as they surpassed them in power.
I freely acknowledge the Christian religion hath not had
the same influence upon the nation that it would in case it
had been always professed in its purity, and cordially be-
lieved by all men. But I will venture to say that if you
take the Roman history from one end to the other, and
impartially compare it with your own, you will neither find
them so good, nor your countrymen so bad, as you imagine.
On the contrary, an indifferent eye may, I verily think,
perceive a vein of charity and justice, the effect of Christian
Blinc iples, run "through the ' latter ";"" which ," though " hot
equally discernibJe in all parts, yet discloseth itself suffi-
ciently to make a wide difference upon the whole, in spite
of the general appetites and passions of human nature, as
well as of the particular hardness and roughness of the
block out of which we were hewn. And it is observable
(what the Roman authors themselves do often suggest) that
even their virtues and magnanimous actions rose and fell
with a sense of Providence and a future state, and a philo-
sophy the nearest to the Christian religion.

15. Crito having spoke thus paused.
But Alciphrofif addressing himself to Euphranor and
me, said — It is natural for men, according to their several

BERKELEY: FRASER. II. P

aro ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

educations and prejudices, to form contrary ju^ments uponr:]
the same things, which they view in very different lights^
Crito, for instance, imagines that none but salutary effecL:»
proceed from religion : on the other hand, if you appeal t;::^
the general experience and observation of other men, yc;:,
shall find it grown into a proverb that religion is the ro o;
of evil : —

Tan turn religio potuit suadere mBlarum.

And this not only among Epicureans or other ancient
heathens, but among moderns speaking of the Christian
religion. Now, methinks it is unreasonable to oppose
agamst the general concurring opinion of the world, the
observation of a particular person, or particular set of zea-
lots, whose prejudice sticks close to them, and ever mixelh
with their judgment ; and who read, collect, and observe
with an eye, not to discover the truth, but to defend their
prdudice.

Cri. Though I cannot think with Aleiphron, yet I must
own 1 admire his address and dexterity in argument.
Popular, and general opinion is by him represented, on
certain occasions, to be a sure mark of error. R yt when it
serves his ends that it should seem otherwise, he .can as
easily make it a character of truth. But it will by no means
follow that a profane proverb, used by the friends and
admired authors of a minute philosopher, must therefore
be a received opinion, much less a truth grounded on the
experience and observation of mankind. Sadness maj
spring from guilt or superstition, and rage from bigotry;
but darkness might as well be supposed the natural effect
of sunshine, as sullen and furious passions to proceed from
the glad tidings and divine precepts of the gospel. What
is the sum and substance, scope and end of Christ's r eli-
gion, but the love of God ana man? Towhich all other
points and duties are relative and subordinate, as parts or
means, as signs, principles, motives, or eifects. NoW
I would fain know how it is possible for evil or wickedness
of any kind to spring from such a source ? I will not prp
tend there are no evil qualities in Christians, nor good in
minute philosophers. But this 1 affirm, that, whatever evil
is in us, our principles certainly lead to good ; and, whatever

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 211

good there may be in you, it is most certain your prin-:
ciples lead to evil ^

i6. Ale. It must be owned there is a fair outside, and
many plausible things may be said for the Christian reli-
gion taken simply as it lies in the gospel. But it is the
observation of one of our great writers^, that the first
Christian preachers very cunningly began with the fairest
face and the best moral doctrines in the world. It was all
love, charity, meekness, patience, and so forth. But when
by this means they had drawn over the world and got
power, they soon changed their appearance, and shewed
cruelty, ambition, avarice, and every bad quality.

Cru That is to say, some men very cunningly preached
and underwent a world of hardships, and laid down their
lives to propagate the best principles and the best morals,
to the end that others some centuries after might reap the
benefit of bad ones. Whoever may be cunning, there is
not much cunning in the maker of this observation.

Ale. And yet ever since this religion hath appeared in
the world we have had eternal feuds, factions, massacres,
and wars. tlT e ve T V rever se^ oTthat hymn with '^TcTiTt'ls
i ntroduced in the gospel : —'' Glory be To'Gbd' on High," on
earth peace, good-will towards men.'

Crt. This I will not deny. I will even own that the
G ospel and the Chri stian religion have been often the pre-^;^-
texts for ^ hf fir ^^'^^ ; ^"^ ^'*" wn "^^ thence follow they were "^
t he cause. ^On the contrary, it is plain they could not be
the real proper cause of these evils ; because a rebellious,
proud, revengeful, quarrelsome spirit is directly opposite
to the whole tenor and most express precepts of Chris-
tianity: a point so clear that I shall not prove it. And,
secondly, because all those evils you mention were as fre-
quent, nay, much more frequent, before the Christian
religion was known in the world. They are the common
product of the passions and vices of mankind, which are
sometimes covered with the mask of religion by wicked
men, having the form of godliness without the power of it.
This truth seems so plain that I am surprised how any

* Cf. sect. 6, 20.

' See Shaftesbury's CharactirisHcs vol. III. pp. 114, 115.

P 2

212 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

man of sense, knowledge, and candour can make a douh::!
of it.

17. Take but a view of heathen Rome : what a scene jm
there of faction, and fury, and civil rage ! Let any m^j
consider the perpetual feuds between the patricians acic/
plebeians^ the bloody and inhuman factions of Marius and
Sylla, Cinna and Octavius, and the vast havoc of mankind
during the two famous triumvirates. To be short, let any
man of common candour and common sense but cast an
eye from one end to the other of the Roman story, and
behold that long scene of seditions, murders, massacres,
proscriptions, and desolations of every kind, enhanced by
every cruel circumstance of rage, rapine, and revenge;
and then say, whether those evils were introduced into the
world with the Christian religion, or whether they are not
less frequent now than before ?

Ale. The ancient Romans, it must be owned, had a high
and fierce spirit, which produced eager contentions and
very bloody catastrophes. The Greeks, on the other hand,
were a polite and gentle sort of men, softened by arts and
philosophy. It is impossible to think of the little states
and cities of Greece without wishing to have lived in those
times, without admiring their policy, and envying their
happiness.

Cri. Men are apt to consider the dark sides of what they

possess, and the bright ones of things out of their reach.

A fine climate, elegant taste, polite amusements, love of

liberty, and a most ingenious inventive spirit for arts and

sciences were indisputable prerogatives of ancient Greece.

But, as for peace and quietness, gentleness and humanity,

I think we have plainly the advantage : for those envi^

cities composed of gentle Greeks were not without their

factions, which persecuted each other with such treachery,

rage, and malice that in respect of them our factious folk

are mere lambs. To be convinced of this truth, you need

only look into Thucydides^ where you will find those

cities in general involved in such bitter factions as for

fellow-citizens without the formalities of war to murder

one another, even in their senate-houses and their temples;

* [Thucyd. Lib. III.]— Author.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 213

no regard being had to merit, rank, obligation, or nearness
of blood. And if human nature boiled up to so vehement
a pitch in the politest people, what wonder that savage
nations should scalp, roast, torture, and destroy each other,
as they are known to do? It is therefore plain that
without religion there would not be wanting pretexts for
quarrels and debates; all which can very easily be ac-
counted for by the naturaPrrifirmities arid corruption of
men: If would^nbt perhaps be so easy to account for the
blindness of those who impute the most hellish effects to
the most Divine principle, if they could be supposed in
earnest and to have considered the point. One may daily
see ignorant and prejudiced men make the most absurd
blunders. But that free-thinkers, divers to the bottom of
things, fair inquirers, and openers of eyes, should be capable
of such a gross mistake is what one would not expect,

18. Ale. The rest of mankind we could more easily
give up : but as for the Greeks, men of the most refined
genius express a high esteem of them ; not only on ac-
count of those qualities which you think fit to allow them,
but also for their virtues.

Cru I shall not take upon me to say how far some men
maybe prejudiced against their country, or whether others
may not be prejudiced in favour of it. But, upon the
fullest and most equal observation that I am able to make,
it is my opinion that, if by virtue is meant truth, justice,
gratitude, there is i ncomparably more virtue n nw at thjg

dayj n^K"S^''"^ th^" ^*^ any Hmp. nc^^^^(^ hi> fnnnd in apQ^']}*^

QfeeceT Thus much will be allowed — that we know few
countries, if any, where men of eminent worth, and famous
for deserving well of the public, met with harder fate,
and were more ungratefully treated than in the most polite
and learned of the Grecian states ^ Though Socrates,
it must be owned, would not allow that those statesmen,
by adorning the city, augmenting the fleet, or extending
the commerce of Athens, deserved well of their country ;
or could with justice complain of the ungrateful returns
made by their fellow-citizens, whom, while they were in
power, they had taken no care to make better men, by

* Cicero, De Repub, I. 3.

214 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

improving and cultivating their minds with the principles
of virtue, which if they had done, they needed not to have
feared their ingratitudfe. If I were to declare my opinion,
what gave the chief advantage to Greeks and Romans
and other nations which have made the greatest figure
in the world, I should be apt to think it was a peculiar
reverence for their respective laws and institutions, which
inspired them with steadiness and courage, and that
hearty generous love of their country : by which they did
not merely understand a certain language or tribe of men,
much less a particular spot of earth, but included a certain
system of manners, customs, notions, rites, and laws, civil
and religious.

Ale. Oh ! I perceive your drift : you would have us
reverence the laws and religious institutions of our country.
But herein we beg to be excused, if we do not think nt
to imitate the Greeks, or to be governed by any authority
whatsoever.

ECri. So far from it. If Mahometanism were estab-
ed by authority, I make no doubt those very free-
thinkers, who at present applaud Turkish maxims and
manners to that degree you would think them ready to
turn Turks, would then be the first to exclaim against them.]
A/c. But to return : as for wars and factions, I grant
they ever were, and ever will be in the world, upon some
pretext or other, as long as men are men.

19. But there is a sort of war and warriors peculiar to
Christendom which the heathens had no notion of: I
mean disputes in theology, and polemical divi nes.^ w hich
the_jYP.rj4 hath been wonderfully peste red wjTp i : these
teachers of peace, meekness, concord, and what not! if
you take their word for it : but, if you cast an eye upon
their practice, you .find them to have been in all ages
the most contentious, quarrelsome, disagreeing crew, that
ever appeared upon earth. To observe the skill and
sophistry, the zeal and eagerness, with which those bar-
barians, the school-divines, split hairs and contest about
chimeras, gives me more indignation, as being more absurd
and a greater scandal to human reason, than all the am-
bitious intrigues, cabals, and politics of the court of Rome.

* This of Criio was introduced in the second edition.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 215

Crt, If divines are quarrelsome, that is not so far forth
as divine, but as „ undivine and unchristian. Justice is a
good thing ; and the art of healing is excellent ; never-
theless, in the administering of justice or physic, meil
may^ be wronged or poisoned. But as wrong cannot be
justice, or the effect of justice, so poison cannot , be medicine,
or the effiect of medicine ; so neither can pride or strife
be religion, or the effect of religion. Having premised
this, I acknowledge you may often see hQtJiead£d.W^t§,
engage themselves in religious as well as civil parties,
wiUiout being of credit or service to either. And as for
the Schoolmen in particular, I do not in the least think
the Christian religion concerned in the defence of them,
their tenets, or their method of handling them : but, what-
ever futility there may be in their notions, or inelegancy in
their language, in pure justice to truth one must own — they
neither banter nor rail nor declaim in their writings, and
are so far from shewing fury or passion that perhaps an
impartial judge will think the minute philosophers are by
no means to be compared with them, for keeping close to
the point, or for temper and good manners. But, after all,
if men are puzzled, wrangle, talk nonsense, and quarrel
about religion, so they do about law, physic, politics, and
everything else of moment. I ask whether, in these pro-
fessions, or in any other where men have refined and
abstracted, they do not run into disputes, chicane, non-
sense, and contradictions, as well as in divinity ? And
yet this doth not hinder but there may be many excellent
rules, and just notions, and useful truths, in all those
professions. In all disputes human passions too often
mix themselves, in proportion as the subject is conceived
to be more or less important. But we ought not to con-
found the cause of man with the cause of God, or make
human follies an objection to Divine truths. It is easy
to distinguish what looks like wisdom from above, and
what proceeds from the passion and weakness of men.
This is so clear a point, that one would be tempted to
think the not doing it was an effect, not of ignorance, but
of something worse.

. 20. The conduct we object to minute philosophers is
a natural consequence of their principles. Whatsoever

2l6 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

they can reproach us with is an effect, not of our priK^
ciples, but of human passion and frailty *.

Ak. This is admirable. So we must no longer objeo/
to Christians the absurd contentions of Councils, the
cruelty of Inquisitions, the ambition and usurpation of
churchmen •.

Cri. You may object them to Christians, but not to
Christianity. If the Divine Author of our religion and
His disciples have sowed a good seed ; and, together with -
this good seed, the enemies of His gospel (among whom
are to be reckoned the minute philosophers of all ages)
, have sowed bad seeds, whence spring tares and thistles;
is it not evident, these bad weeds cannot be imputed to
the good seed, or to those who sowed it ? Whatever you
do or can object against ecclesiastical t3Tanny, usurpation,
or sophistry, may, without any blemish or disadvantage
to religion, be acknowledged by all true Christians ; pro-
vided still that you impute those wicked effects to their
true cause, not blaming any principles or persons for them
but those that really produce or justify them. Certainly,
as the interests of Christianity are not to be supported
by unchristian methods, whenever these are made use of,
it must be supposed there is some other latent principle
which sets them at work. If the very court of Rome hath
been known, from motives of policy, to oppose settling
the Inquisition in a kingdom where the secular power
hath endeavoured to introduce it in spite of that court';
we may well suppose that, elsewhere, factions of state and
political views of princes have given birth to transactions
seemingly religious, wherein at bottom neither religion,
nor church, nor churchmen, were at all considered. As
no man of common sense and honesty will engage in
a general defence of ecclesiastics, so I think no man of
common candour can condemn them in general. Would^
you think it reasonable to blame all statesmen, lawyers,
or sol diers_Jjar the faults, committed bjLihose oftjidL
protesSon ; though in other times, or in otKe?'*Wtfntnes,
aSiH^ influenced by other maxims and other discipline?
And if not, why do you measure with one rule to the
clergy, and another to the laity ? . Surely the best reason

* Cf. sect. 6, 15. » [P. Paolo, Istoria delV Infuisi'

^ C£ Dial. I. sect. 3. tione, p. 42.] — Author.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 21 7

that can be given for this is prejudice. Should any man
rake together all the mischiefs that have been committed
in all ages and nations by soldiers and lawyers, you
would, I suppose, conclude from thence, not that the state
should be deprived of those useful professions, but only
that their exorbitances should be guarded against and
punished. If you took the same equitable course with the
clergy, there would indeed be less to be said against you ;
but then you would have much less to say. This plain
obvious consideration, if every one who read considered,
would lessen the credit of your declaimers.

Ale. But when all is said that can be said, it must move
a man's indignation to see reasonable creatures, under the
notion of study and learning, employed in reading and
writing so many voluminous tracts de land caprind.

Cri. I shall not undertake the vindication of theolog ical
writingS jji. general defence being as needless as a general
cHa^.k-,^Qun!^^^^^ XThT y lefthe m - ^^peOi ' fof ll iem -
selves ; and let no man. condemn them upon the word of a
minute philosopher. But we will imagine the very worst,
and~§ui5pose a wrangling pedant in divinity disputes, and
ruminates, and writes upon a refined point, as useless and
unintelligible as you please. Suppose this same person
bred a layman, might he not have employed himself in
tricking bargains, vexatious law-suits, factions, seditions,
and such like amusements, with much more prejudice to
the public? Suffer then curious wits to spin cobwebs:
where is the hurt?

Ale. The mischief is, what men want in light they com-
monly make up in heat : zeal and ill-nature, being weapons
constantly exerted by the partisans, as well as champions,
on either side ; and those perhaps not mean pedants or
book-worms. You shaU often see even the learned. and
eminent.. divine lay himself out in explaining. things inex-
plicab le, or contend for a barren point of theory, as if his
life, liberty, or" ibrlune wereat-St^Ke.

CnTTfo doubt all points in divinity are not of equal
moment. Some may be too finely spun, and others have
more stress laid on them than they deserve. Be the
subject what it will, you shall often observe that a point,
by being controverted, singled out, examined, and nearly
inspected, groweth considerable to the same eye that.

2l8 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

perhaps, would have overlooked it in a large and cotrj-
prehensive view. Nor is it an uncommon thing to beholc/
ignorance and zeal united in men who are bom with s

jspirit of party, though the church or religion have in tnitii
but small share in it. Nothing is easier than to make
a cartcaiura (as the painters call it) of any profession upoii
earth : but, at bottom, there will be found nothing so
strange in all this charge upon the clergy, as the partiality
of those who censure them, in supposing the common

I defects of mankind peculiar to their order, or the effect

\)f religious principles.

Ale. Other folks may dispute or squabble as they please,
and nobody mind them; but, it seems, these venerable
squabbles of the clergy pass for learning, and interest
mankind. To use the words of the most ingenious
Characterizer of our times : — 'A ring is made, and readers
gather in abundance. Every one takes party and encourages
his own side. '' This shall be my champion I — This man
for my money ! — Well hit, on our side ! — Again, a good
stroke ! — There he was even with him ! — Have at him the
next bout ! — Excellent sport ' ! *"

Cri. Methinks I trace the man of quality and breeding
in this delicate satire, which so politely ridicules those
arguments, answers, defences, and replications which the
press groans under.

Ale. To the infinite waste of time and paper, and all
the while nobody is one whit the wiser. And who indeed
can be the wiser for reading books upon subjects quite
out of the way, incomprehensible, and most_^^jitchedly
Mfliitten? What man of sense or breeHTng would not
abhor the infection of prolix pulpit eloquence ; or of that
dry, formal, pedantic, stiff, and clumsy style, which smells
of the lamp and the college ?

21. They who have the weakness to reverence the
universities as seats of learning must needs think this
a strange reproach ; but it is a very just one. For the
most ingenious men are now agreed, that they are only
the nurseries of prejudice, corruption, barbarism, and
pedantry *.

* [ChamcterisiicSf vol. III. c. a, * Shaftesbury, Characteristics^

p. 9.] — Author. vol. III.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 219

Lys. For my part, I find no fault with universities. All
I know is that I had the spending of three hundred pounds
a year in one of them, and think it the cheerfullest time
of my life. As for their books and style, I had not leisure
to mmd them.

Cri. Whoever hath a mind to. weed will never want
work; and he that shall pick out bad books on every
subject will soon fill his library. I do not know what
theological writings Alciphron and his friends may be
conversant in; but, I will venture to say, one may find
among our English divines many writers who, for compass
of learning, weight of matter, strength of argument, and
purity of style are not inferior to any in our langilage.
It is hot "my design to apologize for the universities:
whatever is amiss in them (and what is there perfect among
men?) I heartily wish amended. But I dare affirm,
because I know it to be true, that any impartial observer,
although they should not come up to what in theory he
might wish or imagine, will nevertheless find them much
superior to those that in fact are to be found in other
countries, and far beyond the mean picture that is drawn
of them by minute philosophers. It is natural for those
to rail most at places of education who have profited least
by them. Weak and fond parents; will also readily impute
to a wrong cause those corruptions themselves have
occasioned, by allowing their children more money than
they know how to spend innocently. And too often a
gentleman w ho ha s been idle at the college, and kept idle
c ompany, will judge of a whole university from his own
cabal.

Ale. Crito mistakes the point. I vouch the authority,
not of a dunce, or a rake, or absurd parent, but of the
most consummate critic this age has produced. This great
man characterizeth men of the church and universities
with the finest touches and most masterly pencil. What
do you think he calls them ? .

Euph. What?

Ale, Why, the black tribe, magicians, formalists, pedants,
bearded boys; and having sufficiently derided and ex-
ploded them, and their mean, ungenteel learning, he sets
most admirable models of his own for good writing : and
it must be acknowledged they are the finest things in our

220 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

language ; as I could easily convince you, for I am ne\
without something of that noble writer about me\

Euph, He is then a noble writer ?

Ale. I tell you he is a nobleman.

Euph. But a nobleman who writes is one thing, a^
a noble writer another.

Ale. Both characters are coincident, as you may see.

22. Upon which Alciphron pulled a treatise out of
pocket, entitled A Soliloquy, or Advice to an Auti^
Would you behold, said he, looking round upon the
pany, a noble specimen of fine writing? do but dip i
this book: which Crito opening, read verbatim
follows ^ : —

' Where then are the pleasures which ambition promises,
And love affords ? How 's the gay world enjoy*d ?
Or are those to be esteemed no pleasures
Which are lost by dulness and inaction ?
But indolence is the highest pleasiu^.
To live, and not to feel! To feel no trouble.
What good then? Life itself. And is
This properly to live ? Is sleeping, life ?
Is this what I should study to prolong!
Here the

Fantastic tribe itself seems scandalized.
A civil war begins: the major part
Of the capricious dames do range themselves
On reason's side,

And declare against the languid Siren.
Ambition blushes at the offered sweet.
Conceit and Vanity take superior airs.
Ev'n Luxury herself, in her polite
And elegant humour, reproves th* apostate
Sister,

And marks her as an alien to true pleasure.
Away, thou

Drowsy phantom ! haunt me no more ; for I
Have learn'd from better than thy sisterhood,
That life and happiness consist in action
And employment.

But here a busy form solicits us —
Active, industrious, watchful, and despising

^ Shaftesbury. See Character- 320, here presented sarcastic^- 7

isHes, vol. I. pp. 64, 333-335. in blank verse. The SolHoquy ^^

' [Part III. sect, a.] — Author. pearedin 1710.
See CharacimsticSy vol. I. pp. 318-

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 221

Pains and labour. She wears the serious

Countenance of Virtue, but with features

Of anxiety and disquiet

What is't she mutters? What looks she on with

Such admiration and astonishment?

Bags ! coffers ! heaps of shining metal ! What !

For the service of Luxury? For her

These preparations? Art thou then her friend,

Grave Fancy? Is it for her thou toilest?

No, but for provision against want

But, luxury apart, tell me now,

Hast thou not already a competence?

'Tis good to be secure against the fear

Of starving. Is there then no death but this?

No other passage out of life ? Are other doors

Secured if this be barr'd ? Say, Avarice !

Thou emptiest of phantoms, is it not vile

Cowardice thou serv'st ? What further have I then

To do with thee (thou doubly vile dependent)

When once I have dismiss'd thy patroness,

And despised her threats?

Thus I contend with Fancy and Opinion.'

Euphranor having heard thus far, cried out, What I will
you never have done with your poetry ? another time may
serve : but why should we break off our conference to
read a play ?

You are mistaken, it is no play nor poetry, replied

Alciphron, but a famous modern critic moralizing in prose.

You must know this great man hath (to use his own words)

revealed a grand arcanum to the world, having instructed

mankind in what he calls mirror-writings self-discoursing

practice^ and author practice, and shewed *, that ' by virtue

of an intimate recess we may discover a certain duplicity

of soul, and divide our seljf into two parties,* or (as he

varies the phrase) 'practically form the dual number.'

In consequence whereof, he hath found out that a man

may argue with himself; and not only with himself, but

also with notions, sentiments, and vices, which by a

marvellous prosopopoeia he converts into so many ladies ;

and so converted, he confutes and confounds them in

a Divine strain. Can anything be finer, bolder, or more

Euph. It is very wonderful. I thought, indeed, you had

1 See Characteristics^ vol. I. p. 169 ; also pp. 171, i95> i99> ao5-

222 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

been reading a piece of tragedy. Is this he who despiset*^
our universities, and sets up for reforming the style aa^,
tastes of the age ?

Ale. The very same. This is the admired critic cd;
our times. Nothing can stand the test of his correct jud^.
ment, which is equally severe to poets and parsons. ' T&e
British Muses (saith this great man ^) lisp as in their
cradles ; and their stammering tongues, which nothing but
youth and rawness can excuse, have hitherto spoken m
wretched pun and quibble. Our dramatic Shakespear, our
Fletcher, Jonson, and our epic Milton, preserve this style.*
And, according to him, even our later authors, ' aiming at
a false sublime, entertain our raw fancy and unpractised
ear ; which has not yet had leisure to form itself, and become
truly musical.'

Euph. Pray what effect may the lessons of this great
man, in whose eyes our learned professors are but bearded
boys, and our most celebrated wits but wretched punsters,
have had upon the public ? Hath he rubbed off the college
rust, cured the rudeness and rawness of our authors, and
reduced them to his own attic standard ? Do they aspire
to his true sublime, or imitate his chaste unaffected style?!

Ale. Doubtless the taste of the age is much mended:
in proof whereof his writings are universally admired.
When our author published this Treatise, he foresaw the
public taste would improve apace ; that arts and letters
would grow to great perfection ; that there would be
a happy birth of genius : of all which things he spoke,
as he saith himself, in a prophetic style.

Cri. And yet, notwithstanding the prophetical predic-
tions of this critic, I do not find any science hath throve
among us of late so much as the minute philosophy. In
this kind, it must be confessed, we have had many notable
productions. But whether they are such masterpieces for
good writing, I leave to be determined by their readers.

23. In the meantime, I must beg to be excused if I cannot
believe your great man on his bare word ;. when he would
have us think that ignorance and ill-taste are owing to the
Christian religion or the clergy, it beingm y sincerf * npinion

* CharacierisHcsy vol. I. p. 217.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 223

thkt w h^tY^vfn- Iparning n r knowledp;e we have among us

' at discovering a mote in other eyes would but purge their
own, I believe they might easily see this truth. For, what
butre ligion could k indle and preserve a spirit toWafds-
learnmp m auch a nnrthprn rnngh pfiQplcT?" Greece
produced men of active and subtile genius. The public
conventions and emulations of their cities forwarded that
genius; and their natural curiosity was amused and ex-
cited by learned conversation, in their public walks and-
gardens and porticos. Our genius leads to amusements
of a grosser kind : we breathe a grosser and a colder air ^ ;
and that curiosity which was general in Athenians, and the
gratifying of which was their chief recreation, is among
our people of fashion treated like affectation, and as such
banished from polite assemblies and places of resort;
and without doubt would in a little time be banished the
country, if it were not for the great reservoirs of learning,
where those formalists, pedants, and bearded boys, as your
profound critic calls them ', are maintained by the liberality
and piety of our predecessors. For, i> ig gg^ fyiHf^ni-tliaf

r eligion was the cause ^ f thrxs^ c^minan'^g qc it ic tkaf

they are the cause or source of all the learning and taste
wnicn a re to be foun d, e ven m tnose very men who are
the dudUired ene miesof pui* religion and public foun3atibns.
iLvery one, wEo knows anyflung, Tcnbws we are ihdeBfed
for our learning to the Greek and Latin tongues. This
those severe censprs will readily grant. Perhaps they
may not be so ready to grant, what all men must see,
that we are indebted for those tongues to our religion.
What else could have made foreign and dead languages
in such request among us ? What could have kept in being
and handed them down to our times, through so many
dark ages in which the world was wasted and disfigured
by wars and violence ? What, but a regard to the Holy
Scriptures, and theological writings of the Fathers and
Doctors of the Church ? And in fact, do we not find that
the learning of those times was solely in the hands of
ecclesiastics ; that they alone lighted the lamp in succession
one from another, and transmitted it down to after ages ;

' Cf. sect. 11, 14; also Dial, II. 17; III, 13.
' Cf. sect. 31.

22+ ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

and that ancient books were collected and preserved ^5
their colleges and seminaries, when all love and r-^
membrance of polite arts and studies was extinguish^^
among the laity, whose ambition entirely turned to
arms?

24. A/c. There is, I must needs say, one sort of learning
undoubtedly of Christian original, and peculiar to the
universities; where our youth spend several years in
acquiring that mysterious jargon of Scholasticism; than
which there could never have been contrived a more
effectual method to perplex and confound human under-
standing. It is true, gentlemen are untaught by the world
what they have been taught at the college : but then their
time is doubly lost.

Cri. But what if this scholastic learning was not of
Christian but of Mahometan original, being derived from
the Arabs? And what if this grievance of gentlemen's
spending several years in learning and unlearning this
jargon be all grimace, and a specimen only of the truth
and candour of certain minute philosophers, who raise
great invectives from slight occasions, and judge too often
without inquiring ? Surely it would be no such deplorable
loss of time, if a youn^ gentlema n spent a few months
upon that so much despised and decrie d ^rt of Lt^c,
a surfeit of which is by no means tTTe prevailing nuisance
of this age. It is one thing to waste one's time in learning
and unlearning the barbarous terms, wire-drawn distinc-
tions, and prolix sophistry of the Schoolmen ; and another
to attain some exactness in defining and arguing— things
perhaps not altogether beneath the dignity even of a
minute philosopher. There was indeed a time when
Logic was considered as its own object : and that art of
reasoning, instead of being transferred to things, turned
altogether upon words and abstractions ; which produced
a sort of leprosy in all parts of knowledge, corrupting and
converting them into hollow verbal disputations in a most
impure dialect. But those times are past ; and that,
which had been cultivated as the principal learning for
some ages, is now considered in another light; and by
no means makes that figure in the universities, or bears
that part in the studies of young gentlemen educated there,

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 225

which is pretended by those admirable reformers of religion
and learning, the minute philosophers.

25. But who were they that encouraged and produced
the restoration of arts and polite learning? What share
had the minute philosophers in this affair? Matthias
Corvinus king of Hungary, Alphonsus king of Naples,
Cosmus de Medicis, Picus of Mirandula, and other princes,
and great men, famous for learning themselves, and for
encouraging it in others with a munificent liberality, were
neither Turks, nor Gentiles, nor minute philosophers.
Who was it that transplanted and revived the Greek
language and authors, and with them all polite arts and
literature, in the west? Was it not chiefly Bessarion a
cardinal, Marcus Musurus an archbishop, Theodore Gaza
a private clergyman ? Has there been a greater and more
renowned patron and restorer of elegant studies in every
kind, since the days of Augustus Caesar, than Leo the
Tenth, pope of Rome? Did any writers approach the
purity of the classics nearer than the cardinals Bembus
and • Sadoletus, or than the bishops of Jovius and Vida?
Not to mention an endless number of ingenious ecclesi-
astics, who flourished on the other side of the Alps in the
golden age (as the Italians call it) of Leo the Tenth, and
wrote, both in their own language and the Latin, after the
best models of antiquity. It is true, this first recovery of
learning preceded the Reformation, and lighted the way
to it; but the religious controversies which ensued did
wonderfully propagate and improve it in all parts of
Christendom. And surely, the Church of England is at
least as well calculated for the encouragement of learning
as that of Rome. Experience confirms this observation ;
and I believe the minute philosophers will not be so
partial to Rome as to deny it.

Ale. It is impossible your account of learning beyond
the Alps should be true. The noble critic in my hands,
having complimented the French, to whom he allows some
good authors, asserts ^ of other foreigners, particularly the
Italians, ' That they may be reckoned no better than the
corrupters of true learning and erudition \'

^ Characteristics, vol. I. p. 35, note.
^ Ibid. p. 335, note.

BERKELEY: FRASER. II. Q

226 ALCiPHRON OR THE MmCtE PHILOSOPHER

Cri, With some sorts of critics, dogmatical censur*^
and conclusions are not always the result of perfect kno^*^
ledge or exact inquiry ; and if they harangue upon tas -^
truth of art, a just piece, grace of style, attic elegance, dijnc
such topics, they are to be understood only as those i\rtat
would fain talk themselves into reputation for courage.
To hear Thrasymachus speak of resentment, duels, and
point of honour, one would think him ready to bursf
with valour.

Lys. Whatever merit this writer may have as a demo-
lisher, I always thought he had very little as a builder.
It is natural for careless writers to run into faults they
never think of; but for an exact and severe critic to shoot
his bolt at random is unpardonable. If he, who professes
at every turn a high esteem for polite writing, should yet
despise those who most excel in it ; one would be tempted
to suspect his taste. But if the very man who of all men
talks most about art, and taste, and critical skill, and
would be thought to have most considered those points,
should often deviate from his own rules, into the false
sublime, or the mauvaise plaisanterie — what reasonable
man would follow the taste and judgment of such a guide,
or be seduced, or climb the steep ascent, or tread in the
rugged paths of virtue on his recommendation ?

26. Ale, But to return : methinks Crito makes no com-
pliment to the genius of his country, in supposing that
Englishmen might not have wrought out of themselves all
art and science and good taste; without being beholden
to church or universities, or ancient languages.

Cri, What might have been is only conjecture. What
has been it is not dilBRcult to know. That there is a vein
in Britain, of as rich an ore as ever was in any country,
I will not deny ; but it lies deep, and will cost pains to
come at : and extraordinary pains require an extraordinary
motive. As for what lies next the surface, it seems but
indifferent, being neither so good nor in such plenty as
in some other countries. It was the comparison of an
ingenious Florentine, that the celebrated poems of Tasso
and Ariosto are like two gardens, the one of cucumbers,
the other of melons. In the one you shall find few bad,
but the best are not a very good fruit ; in the other much

Tirr FIFTH niAT.Of^fE 227

the greater part are mod for nothing, but those that are
good are excellent. Perhaps the same comparison may
hold, between the English and some of their neighbours.

Ale. But suppose we should grant that the Christian
religion and its seminaries might have been of use, in
preserving or retrieving polite arts and letters ; what then ?
\Vill you make this an argument of its truth?

Cri. 1 will make it^ an argument of prejudice and ingrati-
tude in those mniute philosophers, who object darkness,
ighorance.'and rudeness as an effect of that very thing
vrl l!t:!i ab ove "all others hath enlightened and civilized and
e mbellished th eir country ; which is as truly indebted to it
for arts and sciences (which nothing but religion was ever
known to have planted in such a latitude) as for that
general sense of virtue and humanity, and belief of a
Providence and future state, which all the argumentation
of minute philosophers hath not yet been able to abolish.

27. Ale. It is strange you should still persist to ai^uc
as ii'all the gentlemen of our sect were enemies to virtue,
and downright atheists ; though 1 have assured you of the
contrary, and that we have among us several who profess
themselves in the interests of virtue and natural religion,
and have also declared .that I myself do now argue upon
that foot.

Cri. How can you pretend to be in the interests ol
natural religion, and yet be professed enemies of the
Christian; the onlv established religion which includes
whatever is exc elleiit in the natural, and which is the only
itipang_fit^ pak-rng"tlin':i- precepts, duties, and notions, so
called, become reverenced throughout the world ? Would
not he be thougTit weak or insincere, who should go about
lo persuade people that he was much in the interests of
an earthly monarch ; that he loved and admired his govern-
ment; when at the same time he shewed himself, on all
occasions, a most bitter enemy of those very persons and
methods which above gll others contributed most to, his .
ser vice , and to make his dignity known and revered, his
laws observed, or his dominion extended? And is not
tBis what minute philosophers do, while they set up for
advocates of God and religion, and yet do all they can to
discredit Christians and their worship ? It must be owned.

228 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

indeed, that you argue against _Christianity»jLSL_lhe_cau^^
of evil and wickedness Jn the world ; but with such arg^^-
ments and in such a manner as might equally prove tlfi
same thing of civil government, of meat an^ drink, ^
every faculty and profession, of learning, of eloquen^i^e
and even of human reason itself. After all, even those
of your sect who allow themselves to be called Deists, if
their notions are thoroughly examined, will I fear be founcf
to include little of religion in them \ As for the Provi-
dence of God watching over the conduct of human agents,
and dispensing blessings or chastisements, the immortality
of the soul, a final judgment, and future state of rewards and
punishments ; how few, if any, of your free-thinkers have
made it their endeavour to possess men's minds with
a serious sense of those great points of natural religion !
How many, on the contrary, endeavour to render the
belief of them doubtful or ridiculous ! [* It must be owned
there may be found men that, without any regard to these
points, make some pretence to religion : but who shall
think them in earnest ? You shall sometimes se e the v ery
ringleaders of vice and profaneness write like men that
would be thought to have virtue aa3"plEI3C2EEeart. This
may, perhaps, prove them inconsistent writers, but can
never prove them to be innocent.. When a man's declared
principles and peculiar tenets are utterly subversive of
these things, whatever such an one saith of virtue, piety,
and religion will be understood as mere deception, and
compliance with common forms.]

Lys. To speak the truth, I, for my part, had never any
liking to religion of any kind, either revealed or unrevealed;
and 1 dare venture to say the same for those gentlemen
of our sect that 1 am acquainted with, having never
observed them guilty of so much meanness as even to
mention the name of God with reverence, or to speak with
the least regard of piety or any sort of worship. There
may perhaps be found one or two formal pretenders to
enthusiasm and devotion, in the way of natural religion,
who laughed at Christians for publishing hymns and
meditations, while they plagued the world with as bad
of their own ; but the sprightly men made a jest of all this,

* Cf. Theory of Vision Vindicatedj * The sentences within brackets

sect. a-6. were added in the second edition.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUF,

229

f seems to us mere pedantry. Sometimes, indeed, in
good company one may hear a word dropped in com-
mendation of honour and good-nature; but the former of
these, by connotssmrs, is always understood to mean
nothing but fashion ; as the latter is nothing but temper
and constitution, which guides a man just as appetite doth
a brute,

28. And after all these arguments and notions, which
beget one another without end, to take the matter short;
neither I nor my friends for our souls could ever compre-
hendT^vhy man might not do very well and govern hiniself
without any religion at all, as well as a brute, which is
tHought the sillier creature of the two. Have brutes in-
stincts, senses, appetites, and passions, to steer and conduct
them ? So have men, and reason over and above to con-
sult upon occasion. From these premises, we conclude the
road of human life is sufficiently lighted without religion.

Cri. Brutes having but small power, limited to things
present or particular, are sufficiently opposed and kept
in order by the force or faculties of other animals and the
skill of man, without conscience or religion : but conscience
is a necessary balance to human reason, a faculty of such ,

mighty extent and power, especially towards mischief J

Besides, other animals are, by the law of their nature, I

aeTefmined to one certain end or kind of being, without 1

inclination or means either to deviate or go heyond it.
But man hath in him a will and higher prin ciple ; by virtue
whereof he may pursue different or even contrary ends ;
and either fall short of or exceed the perfection natural to
his species in this world ; as he is capable, either by giving
up the reins to his sensual appetites, of degrading himself
into the condition of brutes, or else by well ordering and
improving his mind, of being transformed into the simili-
tude of angels. Man alone of all animals hath under-
standing to know his God. What availeth this knowledge
unless it be to ennoble man, and raise him to an imitatioru.
and participation of the Divinity? Or what could such / y^
ennoblement avail if to end with this life? Or how can (. \^
these things take effect without religion? But the points (^
of vice and virtue, man and beast, sense and intellect, j
have been already at large canvassed. What ! Lysicles,

230 ALCIPIIRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

would you have us go back where we were three or foi^L,
days ago?

Lys. By no means : I had much rather go forward,
make an end as soon as possible. But, to save troubl
give me leave to tell you once for all that, say what y(
can, you shall never persuade me so many ingenio'-^j
agreeable men are in the wrong, and a pack of snarliKr:i|
sour bigots in the right.

29. Cri, O Lysicles ! I neither look for religion among
bigots, nor reasons among libertines; each kind disgra.ce
their several pretensions ; the one owing no regard even
to the plainest and most important truths, while the othei^
exert an angry zeal for points of least concern. And
surely whatever there is of silly, narrow, and uncharitable
in the bigot, the same is in great measure to be imputed
to the cbnceited ignorance and petulant profaneness of tht
libertine. And it is not at all unnkely that, as libertines
make bigots, so bigots should make libertines, the extreme
of one party being ever observed to produce a contrary
extreme of another. And although, while these adver-
saries draw the rope of contention, reason and religion
are often called upon, yet are they perhaps very little con-
sidered or concerned in the contest.

LysicleSf instead of answering Crito, turned short ujjon
Alciphron. It was always my opinion, said he, that nothing
could be sillier than to think of destroying Christianity,
by crying up natural religion. Whoever th inks highl y
of the one can nevert with^a consistency, thi nk^ meanly of
th e otT ier ; it being very evident th at natur aLreligion,
wiffiout revealed, never was and never c an Si e stablished
or received anywhere, but in the brains oFa few idle
speculative men. I was aware what your concessions
would come to. The belief of a God, virtue, a future
state, and such fine notions are, as every one may see
with half an eye, the very basis and corner-stone of the
Christian religion. Lay but this foundation for them to
build on, and you shall soon see what superstructures our
men of divinity will raise from it. The truth and impor-
tance of those points once admitted, a man need be no
conjuror to prove, upon that principle, the excellency and
usefulness of the Christian religion. And then to be sure,

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 23I

there must be priests to teach and propagate this useful
religion. And if priests, a regular subordination without
doubt in this worthy society, and a provision for their
maintenance, such as may enable them to perform all
their rites and ceremonies with decency, and keep their
sacred character above contempt. And the plain conse-
quence of all this is a confederacy between the prince and
the priesthood to su153ue The people :— so we nave let in
at once upon us, a long tram of ecclesiastical evils, priest-
craft, hierarchy, inquisition. We have lost our liberty and
property, and put the nation to vast expense, only to
purchase bridles and saddles for their own backs.

30. This being spoke with some sharpness of tone, and
an upbraiding air, touched Alciphron to the quick, who
replied nothing, but shewed confusion in his looks.

Cn'to smiling looked at Euphranor and me, then, -casting
an eye on the two philosophers, spoke as follows: — If
I may be admitted to interpose good offices for preventing
a rupture between old friends and brethren in opinion,
I would observe that in this charge of Lysicles there is
something right and something wrong. U seems right to
assert, as he doth, that the real belief of "natural religion
win lead a ihan'tdTapprove of revealed rT)uf" it is as wrong
to "assert that Inquisitions, tyranny, and ruin must follow
from thence. Your free-thinkers, without offence be it
said, seem to mistake their talent. They imagine strongly,
but reason weakly; mighty at exaggeration, and jdjune in
argument ! Can no method be found to relieve them from
the terrpr of that fierce and bloody animal an English
parson? Will it not suffice to pare his talons without
cho pping off his fingers ? Then they are such wonderful
patriots lor liberty and property ! When I hear these two
words in the mouth of a minute philosopher, I am put in
mind of the Teste di Ferro at Rome. His Holiness, it
seems, not having power to assign pensions on Spanish
benefices to any but natives of Spain, always keeps at
Rome two Spaniards, called Teste at Ferro, who have the
name of all such pensions, but not the profit, which goes
to Italians. As we may see every day both things and
notions placed to the account of liberty and property
which in reality neither have nor are meant to have any

233 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

share in them. What ! Is it impossible for a man to be
a Christian but he must be a slave ; or a clergyman but
he must have the principles of an inquisitor ? I am far
from screening and justifying an appetite of domination or
tyrannical power in ecclesiastics. Some, who have been
guilty in that respect, have sorely paid for it, and it is to
be hoped they always will. But, having laid the fury and
folly of the ambitious prelate, is it not time to look about
and spy whether, on the other hand, some evil may not
possibly accrue to the state from the overflowing zeal of
an independent Whig? This I may afBrm, without being
at any pains to prove it, that the worst tyranny this nation
ever felt was from the hands of patriots of that stamp.

31. Lys. I don't know. Tyranny is a harsh word, and
sometimes misapplied. When spirited men of independent
maxims create a ferment, or^jnake a chang e in the state.
he that loseth is apt to consi3er' things In one light, and
he that wins in another. In the mean time, this is certainly
good policy, that we should be frugal of our money, and
reserve it for better uses than to expend on the church
and religion.

Cri. Surely the old apologue of the belly and members
need not be repeated to such knowing men. It should
seem as needless to observe, that all other states which
ever made any figure in the world for wisdom and polite-
ness have thought learning deserved encouragement as
well as* the sword ; that grants for religious uses were
as fitting as for knights' service; and foundations for
propagating piety as necessary to the public welfare and
defence as either civil or military establishments. [Mn
former times, when the clergy were a body much more
numerous, wealthy, and powerful ; when in their state of
celibacy they gave no pledges to the public; when they
enjoyed great exemptions and privileges above their fellow-
subjects ; when they owned obedience to a foreign poten-
tate—the case was evidently and widely different from
what it is in our days. And the not discerning or not
owning this difference is no proof either of sagacity or
honesty in the minute philosophers.] But I ask who

' The sentences within brackets were added in the second edition.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 233

are at this expense, and what is this expense so much
complained of?

Lys. As if you had never heard of church-lands and
tithes !

Cri, But I would fain know how they can be charged as
an expense, either upon the nation or private men. Where
nothing is exported the nation loseth nothing : and it is all
one to the public whether money circulates at home through
the hands of a vicar or a squire. Then, as for private
men, who, for want of thought, are full of complaint about
the payment of tithes ; can any man justly complain of it
as a tax, that he pays what never belonged to him ? The
tenant rents his farm with this condition, and pays his
landlord proportionately less than if his farm had been
exempt from it : so he loseth nothing ; it being all one to
him, whether he pays his pastor or his landlord. The
landlord cannot complain that he has not what he hath no
right to, either by grant, purchase, or inheritance. This
is the case of tithes ; and as for the church-lands, he surely
can be no free-thinker, nor any thinker at all, who doth
not see that no man, whether noble, gentle, or plebeian,
hath any sort of right or claim to them which he may not
with equal justice pretend to all the lands in the kingdom.

Lys, At present indeed we have no right, and that is
our complaint.

Cri. You would have then what you have no right to.

Lys, Not so either : what we would have is first a right
conveyed by law, and, in the next place, the lands by virtue
of such right.

Cri. In order to this, it might be expedient in the first
place, to get an act passed for excommunicating from all
civil rights every man that is a Christian, a scholar, and
wears a black coat, as guilty of three capital offences
against the public weal of this realm.

Lys. To deal frankly, I think it would be an excellent
good act. It would provide at once for several deserving
men, rare artificers in wit, and argument, and ridicule !
who have, too many of them, but small fortunes, with a
great arrear of merit towards their country, which they
have so long enlightened and adorned gratis,

Euph. Pray tell me, Lysicles, are not the clergy legally
possessed of their lands and emoluments?

234 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Lys. Nobody denies it

Euph. Have they not been possessed of them from time
immemorial ?

Lys, This too I grant.

Euph. They claim them by law and ancient prescription?

Lys, They do.

Euph. Have the oldest families of the nobility a better
title ?

Lys. I believe not. It grieves me to see so many over-
grown estates in the hands of ancient families, on account
of no other merit but what they brought with them into
the world.

Euph. May you not then as well take their lands too,
and bestow them on minute philosophers, as persons of
more merit ?

Lys. So much the better. This enlarges our view and
opens a new scene : it is very delightful, in the contempla-
tion of truth, to behold how one theory grows out of
another.

Ale. Old Paetus used to say that if the clergy were
deprived of their hire we should lose the most popular
argument against them.

Lys. But, so long as men live by religion, there will
never be wanting teachers and writers in defence of it.

Cri. And how can you be sure they would be wanting
though they did not live by it; since it is well known
Christianity had its defenders even when men died by it?

Lys. One thing I know: there is a rare nursery of
young plants growing up, who have been carefully guarded
against every air of prejudice, and sprinkled with the dew
of our choicest principles : meanwhile, wishes are weari-
some ; and to our infinite regret nothing can be done, so
long as there remains any prejudice in favour of old
customs and laws and national constitutions, which, at
bottom, we very well know and can demonstrate to be only
words and notions.

32. But I can never hope, Crito, to make you think my
schemes reasonable. We reason each right upon his own
principles, and shall never agree till we quit our principles;
which cannot be done by reasoning. We all talk of just,
and right, and wrong, and public good, and all those things.

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 235

The names may be the same, but the notions and con-
clusions very different, perhaps diametrically opposite ;
and yet each may admit of clear proofs, and be inferred
by the same way of reasoning. For instance, the gentle-
men of the club which I frequent define man to be a social
animal : consequently, we exclude from this definition all
those human creatures of whom it may be said, we would
rather have their room than their company. And such,
though wearing the shape of man, are to be esteemed, in
all account of reason, not as mefiy but only as human
creatures. Hence it plainly follows that men of pleasure,
men of humour, and men of wit are alone properly and
truly to be considered as men. Whatever, therefore, con-
duceth to the emolument of such is for the good of mankind,
and consequently very just and lawful, although seeming
to be attended with loss or damage to other creatures :
inasmuch as no real injury can be done in life or property
to those who know not how to enjoy them. This we hold
for clear and well-connected reasoning. But others may
view things in another light, assign 'different definitions,
draw other inferences, and perhaps consider what we
suppose the very top and flower of the creation only as
a wart or excrescence of human nature. From all which
there must ensue a very different system of morals, politics,
rights, and notions.

Cri, If you have a mind to argue we will argue ; if you
have more mind to jest, we will laugh with you.

Lys.

Ridentem dicere verum

Quid vetat?

This partition of our kind into men and human creatures,
puts me in mind of another notion, broached by one of our
club, whom we used to call the Pythagorean.

33. He made a threefold partition of the human species,
into birds, beasts, and fishes, being of opinion that the
road of life lies upwards, in a perpetual ascent through
the scale of being : in such sort that the souls of insects
after death make their second appearance in the shape of
perfect animals, birds, beasts, or fishes ; which upon their
death are preferred into human bodies; and in the next
stage into beings of a higher and more perfect kind. This

236 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER
i

man we considered at first as a sort of heretic — because
his scheme seemed not to consist with our fundamental
tenet, the mortality of the soul : but he justified the notion
to be innocent, inasmuch as it included nothing of reward
or punishment, and was not proved by any argument which
supposed or implied either incorporeal spirit or Providence,
being only inferred, by way of analogy, from what he had
observed in human affairs, the court, the church, and the
army ; wherein the tendency is always upwards from lower
posts to higher. According to this system, the fishes are
those men who swim in pleasure, such as petits maitres,
bons vivans, and honest fellows. The beasts are dry,
drudging, covetous, rapacious folk, and all those addicted
to care and business, like oxen, and other dry-land animals,
which spend their lives in labour and fatigue. The birds
are airy notional men, enthusiasts, projectors, philosophers,
and such-like: in each species every individual retaining
a tincture of his former state, which constitutes what is
called genius. If you ask me which species of human
creatures I like best, I answer, the flying fish : that is,
a man of animal enjoyment with a mixture of whim. Thus
you see we have our creeds and our systems, as well as
graver folks ; with this difference, that they are not strait-
laced but sit easy, to be slipped off or on, as humour
or occasion serves. And now I can, with the greatest
equanimity imaginable, hear my opinions argued against,
or confuted.

34. Ale. It were to be wished all men were of that mind.
But you should find a sort of men, whom I need not name,
that cannot bear with the least temper to have their
opinions examined or their faults censured. They are
against reason, because reason is against them. For our
parts we are all for liberty of conscience. If our tenets
are absurd, we allow them to be freely argued and in-
spected ; and by parity of reason we might hope to be
allowed the same privilege with respect to the opinions of
other men.

Cri. O Alciphron ! wares that will not bear the light are
justly to be suspected. Whatever therefore moves you to
make this complaint, take my word I never will : but as
hitherto I have allowed your reason its full scope, so for

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 237

the future I always shall. And though I cannot approve
of railling or declaiming, not even in myself, whenever you
have shewed me the way to it : yet this I will answer for,
that you shall ever be allowed to reason as closely and as
strenuously as you can. But, for the love of truth, be
candid, and do not spend your strength and our time in
points of no significancy, or foreign to the purpose, or
agreed between us. We allow that tyranny and slavery
are bad things : but why should we apprehend them from
the clergy at this time ? Rites and ceremonies we own are
not points of chief moment in religion : but why should
we ridicule things in their nature, at least, innocent, and
which bear the stamp of supreme authority ? That men
in divinity, as well as other subjects, are perplexed with
useless disputes, and are likely to be so as long as the world
lasts, I freely acknowledge : but why must all the human
weakness and mistakes of clergymen be imputed to wicked
designs ? Why indiscriminately abuse their character and
tenets ? Is this like candour, love of truth, and free-think-
ing? It is granted there may be found, now and then,
spleen and ill-breeding in the clergy : but are not the same
faults incident to English laymen of a retired education
and country life ? I grant there is infinite futility in the
Schoolmen : but I deny that a volume of that doth so much
mischief, as a page of minute philosophy. That weak or
wicked men should, by favour of the world, creep into
power and high stations in the church is nothing wonder-
ful : and that in such stations they should behave like
themselves is natural to suppose. But all the while it is
evident that not the gospel but the world, not the spirit
but the flesh, not God but the devil, puts them upon their
unworthy achievements. We make no difHculty to grant
that nothing is more infamous than vice and ignorance in
a clergyman; nothing more base than a hypocrite, more
frivolous than a pedant, more cruel than an inquisitor.
But it must be also granted by you, gentlemen, that nothing
is more ridiculous and absurd than for pedantic, ignorant,
and corrupt men to cast the first stone at every shadow of
their own defects and vices in other men.

35. Ale. When I consider the detestable state of slavery
and superstition, I feel my heart dilate and expand itself

238 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

to grasp that inestimable blessing of independent liberty.
This is the sacred and high prerogative, the very life and
health of our English constitution. You must not there-
fore think it strange, if, with a vigilant and curious eye,
we guard it against the minutest appearance of evil. You
must even suffer us to cut round about, and very deep,
and make use of the magnif3nlng glass, the better to view
and extirpate every the least speck which shall discover
itself in what we are careful and jealous to preserve as the
apple of our eye.

Cru As for unbounded liberty, I leave it to savages,
among whom alone I believe it is to be found : but, for
the reasonable legal liberty of our constitution, I most
heartily and sincerely wish it may for ever subsist and
flourish among us. You and all other Englishmen cannot
be too vigilant, or too earnest, to preserve this gjoodly
frame, or to curb and disappoint the wicked ambition of
whoever, layman or ecclesiastic, shall attempt to change
our free and gentle government into a slavish or severe
one. But what pretext can this afford for your attempts
against religion, or indeed how can it be consistent with
them ? Is not the Protestant religion a main part of our
legal constitution ? I remember to have heard a foreigner
remark, that we of this island were very good Protestants,
but no Christians. But whatever minute philosophers
may wish, or foreigners say, it is certain our laws speak
a different language.

Ale, This puts me in mind of the wise reasoning of
a certain sage magistrate, who, being pressed by the raillery
and arguments of an ingenious man, had nothing to say for
his religion but that ten millions of people inhabiting the
same island might, whether right or wrong, if they thought
good, establish laws for the worshipping of God in their
temples, and appealing to Him in their courts of justice.
And that in case ten thousand ingenious men should
publicly deride and trample on those laws, it might be just
and lawful for the said ten millions to expel the said ten
thousand ingenious men out of their said island.

Euph. And pray, what answer would you make to this
remark of the sage magistrate ?

Ale. The answer is plain. By the lan^i^ijiature, which
is superior to all positive institutional- wit an d^aiewledge

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 239

have a ri^ht to (^^mmanH fnlly and i^nnranre. I say,
ingenious men have by natural ri^t a dominion over
fools.

Euph, What dominion over the laws and people of
Great Britain minute philosophers may be entitled to by
nature, I shall not dispute, but leave to be considered
by the public.

Ale. This doctrine, it must be owned, was never
thoroughly understood before our own times. In the last
age, Hobbes and his followers, though otherwise very
great men, declared for the religion of the magistrate;
probably because they were afraid of the magistrate : but
times are changed, and the magistrates may now be afraid
of us.

Cri. I allow the magistrate may well be afraid of you in
one sense, I mean, afraid to trust you. This brings to my
thoughts a passage on the trial of Leander for a capital
offence* That gentleman having picked out and excluded
from his jury, by peremptory exception, all but some men
of fashion and pleasure, humbly moved, when Dorcon was
going to kiss the book, that he might be required to
declare upon honour whether he believed either God or
jospeK Dbfcbri, rather than hazard his reputation as a
"df honour and free-thinker, openly avowed that he
believed in neither. Upon which the court declared him
unfit to serve on a jury. By the same reason, so many
were set aside as made it necessary to put off the trial.

We are very easy, replied Alcipnron^ about being trusted
to serve on juries, if we can be admitted to serve in
lucrative employments.

Cru But what if the government should enjoin that
every one, before he was sworn into office, should make
the same declarationwhich Dorcon was required to make?

Ale, God forbid ! I hope there is no such design on
foot.

Cri, Whatever designs may be on foot, thus much is
certain : the Ch ristian reformed religion is a principal
part and_conier-sfq5?^T[omJ^^ I veriiy

THinK^ the only thing that makes us deserving of freedom,
or capable of enjoying it. Freedom is either a blessing
or a curse as men use it, . And "to me it seems that if
our religion were once destroyed from among us, and

240 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

those notions which pass for prejudices of a Christian
education erased from the minds of Britons, the best
thing that could befal us would be the lojsjpf our freedom ~
Surely a people wherein there is such restless ambition,
such high spirits, such animosity of faction, so great
interests, in contest such unbounded licence of speech
and press, amidst so much wealth and luxury, nothing
but those veieres avice, which you pretend to extirpate,
could have hitherto kept from ruin.

36. Under the Christian religion this nation hath been
greatly improved. From a sort of savages, we have grown
civil, polite, and learned. We have made a decent and
noble figure both at home and abroad. And, as our
religion decreaseth, I am afraid we shall be found to have
declined. Why then should we persist in the dangerous
experiment ?

Ale. One would think, Crito, you had forgot the many
calamities occasioned by churchmen and religion.

Cri, And one would think you had forgot what was
answered this very day to that objection. But, not to
repeat eternally the same things, I should observe, in
^the first place, that, if we reflect on the past state of
' Christendom, and of our country in particular, with our
feuds and factions subsisting while we were all of the
same religion, for instance, that of the White and Red
Roses, so violent and bloody and of such long continuance;
we can have no assurance that those ill humours, which
have since shewn themselves under the mask of religion,
would not have broke out with some o ther pretej jit, if this
had been wanting. I observe, in the second place, that
it will not follow, from any observations you can make
on our history, that the evils, accide ntall y occasioned
by religion, bear any proportion either to thCgood effects
k ha th really produced, or the evils^ it h ath prevent ed.
Lastly, I observe thaT'the best things may, by acciaent,
be the occasion of evil ; which accidental effect is not,
; to speak properly and truly, produced by the good thing
itself, but by some evil thing, which, being neither part,
property, nor effect of it, happens to be joined with it.
.But I should be ashamed to insist and enlarge on so
plain a point. Certainly whatever evils this nation might

THE FIFTH DIALOGUE 241

have formerly sustained from superstition, no man of com-
mon sense will say the evils felt or apprehended at pre-
sent are from that quarter. Priestc raft is not the reigning
diste mper at this day. And surely ^'ME.be^wnao^
a wise man,'"'wh6 takes upon him to be vigilant for the
puTOc'weal, stTduld'tmidTTTroper things at proper times,
and Tiot prescribe for a surfeit when the distempet- is a
consumption.

Ale. 1 think we have sufHciently discussed the subject
of this day's conference. And now, let Lysicles take it
as he will, I must, in regard to my own character, as a
fair and impartial adversary, acknowledge there is some-
thing in what Crito hath said, upon the usefulness of the
Christian religion. I will even own to you that some of
our sect are for allowing it a toleration. I remember, at
a meeting of several ingenious men, after much debate
we came successively to diverse resolutions.' The first

was, th at no religion ought to be_tolerated in the state :
but this on more mature tnought was judged impraciUCatJle.
The second was, that all religion should be tolerated,
but none countenanced except atheism : but it was appre-
hended that this might breed contentions among the lower
sort of people. We came therefore to conclude^ in the
third place^ that some religion or other should be estabilisKed
for tlrelTse of the vulgar. And, after a long dispute What
this religion should be. Lysis, a brisk young man, per-
ceiving no signs of agreement, proposed that the present
religion might be tolerated, till a better was found. But, \ . ^ ^
allo wing i t to be expedient, I can never think it true^o •^-'-'^j
long as therelie unarisweraBre objections against it ; which,
if you please, I shall take the liberty to propose at our
next meeting.

To which we all agreed.

BBBKBLBY: FRASER. II. ^

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE'

ti t(aii

IiTuy v<fi' aCrov vavTojv xoAeir.

. Points agreed, a. Sundry preler
of tradition. 4. Object and groi
puted, others evidently spurioi
Scripture. 7. Difficulties occur
a defect. 9. Inspiration oeithi

Infidelity an eS'ect of
Christian faith not unreasonabli

14. Things unknown reduced

15. Prejudices against the incai
ance of the Divine economy a :
God foolishness to man, iB. P
of Divine revelation. 20. Prophi
accounts of time older than
Egyptians, Assyrians, Chaldean

es lo revelation. 3. UncertainiJ

id of faith. 5. Some books dis-

6. Style and composition of Holj

I g [herein. 8. Obscurity notalwajs

impossible nor absurd. 10. Objet-

f Divine revelation considered. !'■

and prejudice. la. Arlictea "'

3. Guilt the natural parentoffM'-

he standard of what men knDW>

on of the Son of God. 16. Ipior-

::e of difficulties. 17. ■Wisdom of

in no blind guide. 19. Useiiilncs'

Lecies, whence obscure, at, Easleni

'c. 23. The humour of

nations, ejttending tli(ff

> This Dialogue

the rev_eJationofGod toman thai

,,.v u.^u^i,^^ syi- initiated in viaible-nat - —

ith of Christianity gument thus passes from the utilily

1 ^ui.atianity to its divinity. Tlul
le reason for receiving thisdeepc

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 243

antiquity beyond truth, accounted for. 23. Reasons confirming the
Mosaic account. 24. Profane historians inconsistent. 25. Celsus,
Porphyry, and Julian. 26. The testimony of Josephus considered.
27. Attestation of Jews and Gentiles to Christianity. 28. Forgeries
and heresies. 29. Judgment and attention to minute philosophers.
30. Faith and miracles. 31. Probable arguments, a sufficient ground
of faith. 32. The Christian religion able to stand the test of rational
inquiry.

I. The following day being Sunday, our philosophers
lay long in bed, while the rest of us went to church in
the neighbouring town, where we dined at Euphranor's,
and after evening service returned to the two philosophers,
whom we found in the library. They told us that, if there
was a God, He was present everywhere as well as at
church ; and that if we had been serving Him one way,
they did not neglect to do as much another; inasmuch
as a free exercise of reason must be allowed the most
acceptable service and worship that a rational creature
can offer to its Creator. However, said Alctpkron, if you,
gentlemen, can but solve the difHculties which I shall
propose to-morrow morning, I promise to go to church
next Sunday.

After some general conversation of this kind, we sat
down to a light supper, and the next morning assembled
at the same place as the day before; where being all
seated, I observed, that the foregoing week our con-
ferences had been carried on for a longer time and with
less interruption than I had ever known, or well could
be, in town ; where men's hours are so broken by visits,
business, and amusements, that whoever is content to
form his notions from conversation only must needs have
them very shattered and imperfect.

And what have we got, replied Alciphron, by all these
continued conferences? For my part, I think myself just
where I was with respect to the main point that divides
us— the truth of the Christian religion.

and more practical revelation of The progress of historical criti-
God is fundamentally moral or pro- cism and physical research, with
bable, and that its acceptance, the consequent revolution in re-
like our acceptance of natural cent conceptions of history and
science, is at last a venture of faith, nature has made this Dialogue
is acknowledged (by implication) an anachronism,
at the close of the discussion.

R 2

244 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

I answered, that so many points had been examined,
discussed, and agreed, between him and his adversaries,
that I hoped to see them come to an entire agreement
in the end. For, in the first place, said I, the principles
and opinions of those who are called free-thinkers, or
minute philosophers, have been p retty clearly explaine d'.
Itjiath been also agr^ed^ That vice is not oi thatHSefiefi t
to the nation which some meri [maginej '^ hat virfue ls
Tiighly useful to mankindj : but^ that the beauty ot vir tue
is not alone sufEcieht fo~" engage "them i n"^the pracnce of
it'; that therefore the belTef of a God' and rrovifleifgg'
ought to be erlcouraged in the "state, a nd tolerated m go o^"
company, as a useful notion ^r Further, it hatlL been
proved that there is a God *:*^ that it is .xeasonahlfi' to
worship Him ?^ and that the worship, fa ith, and prind pks
prescribed by the Christian relTgiori have a useful ten-
dency*..

Admit, replied Alciphron, addressing himself to Crito,
all that Dion saith to be true: yet this doth not hinder
my being just where I was, with respect to the main point
Since there is nothing in all this that proves the truth
of the Christian religion : though each of those particulars
enumerated may, perhaps, prejudice in its favour. I am,
therefore, to suspect myself at present for a prejudiced
person ; prejudiced, I say, in favour of Christianity. This,
as I am a lover of truth, puts me upon my guard against
deception. I must, therefore, look sharp, and well consider
every step I take.

2. Cru You may remember, Alciphron, you proposed,
for the subject of our present conference — the considera-
tion of certain difficulties and objections which you had
to offer against the Christian religion. We are now
ready to hear and consider whatever you shall think fit
to produce of that kind. Atheism, and a wrong notion
of Christianity, as of something hurtful to mankind, are
great prejudices, the removal of which may dispose a man
to argue with candour, and submit to reasonable proof:
but the removing prejudices against an opinion is not
to be reckoned prejudicing in its favour. It may be hoped,

» Dial. I. 2 Dial. n. s xy-^^ m^

* Dial. IV. * Dial. V.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 245

therefore, that you will be able to do justice to your cause,
without being fond of it.

Ale. O Crito ! that man may thank his stars to whom
nature hath given a sublime soul, who can raise himself
above popular opinions, and, looking down on the herd
of mankind, behold them scattered over the surface of
the whole earth, divided and subdivided into numberless
nations and tribes, differing in notions and tenets, as in
language, manners, and dress. The man who takes a
general view of the world and its inhabitants from this
lofty stand, above the reach of prejudice, seems to breathe
a purer air, and to sec by a clearer light : hut how to
impart this clear and extensive view to those who are
wandering beneath in the narrow dark paths of error,
ihia indeed is a hard task. Yet, hard as it is, I shall
f if by any means

now then that all the various casts or sects of the sons
of men have each their faith, and their religious system,
germinating and sprouting forth from that common grain
of Enthusiasm which is an original ingredient in the com-
position of human nature. They each tell of intercourse
with the invisible world, revelations from heaven, divine
oracles, and the like. All which pretensions, when I
regard with an impartial eye, it is impossible I should
assent to all, when I find within myself something that
withholds me from assenting to any of them. For, although
I may be willing to follow, so far as common sense and
the light of nature lead; yet the same reason that bids
me yield to rational proof'^ forbids me to admit opinions
without proof This holds in general against all revela-
tion s.whatsoeyer.-^~rid te this my first objection against
the Christian in particular.

Cri. Aslhis objection supposes there is no proof or
reason for believing the Christian revelation, if good
reason can be assigned for such belief, it comes to nothing.
Now I presume you will grant the authority of the reporter
is a true and proper reason for believing reports : and
the better this authority, the juster claim it hath to our

(sent : but the authority of Cod is on all accounts the

246 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

best: whatever therefore comes from God, it is most
reasonable to believe.

3. Ale. This I grant ; but then it must be proved to
come from God.

Crt\ And are not miracles, and the accomplishments
of prophecies, joined with the excellency of its doctrine,
a sufficient proof that the Christian religion came from
God?

Ale. Miracles, indeed, would prove something \ But
what proof have we of these miracles ?

Cru Proof of the same kind that we have or can have
of any facts done a great way off, and a long time ago.
We have authentic. accounts transmitteijdQHai^tp us from
ey e-witn e sses i whom we cannot conceive tempted to impose
upon us By any human motive whatsoeyer; inasmuch
as they acted therein contrary to their interests, thfiii:—
prejudices, and the very principles in .which_they had
been nursed and educated. These accounts were con-
firmed by the unparalleled subversion of the city of
Jerusalem, and the dispersion of the Jewish nation; which
is a standing testimony to the truth of the gospel, par-
ticularly of the predictions of our blessed Saviour. .These
accounts, within less than a century, were spread through-
out the world, and believed by great numbers of people.
These same accounts were committed to writing, trans-
lated into several languages, and handed down with the
same respect and consent of Christians in the most distant
churches.

Do you not see, said Alciphron, staring full at Crito,
that all this hangs by tradition ? And tradition, take my
word for it, gives but a weak ho ld : it is a chain, whereof
the first links may be stronger than steel, and yet the
last weak as wax, and as brittle as glass. Imagine
a picture copied successively by a hundred painters, one
from another; how like must the last copy be to the
original ! How lively and distinct will an image be, after
a hundred reflexions between two parallel mirrors ! Thus

* Alciphron does not raise the speaking to in^n in. Christ, jis dis*

question of the possibility of physl- tinguished from Hi& language of

cal miracles; nor the rationa le of Vision, signalised in the Fourth

A miraculous proof that God is Dialogue.

TME SIXTH DIALOGUE 247

like and thus lively do I think a faint vanishing tradition,
at the end of sixteen or seventeen hundred years. Some
men have a false heart, others a wrong head ; and, where
both are true, the memory may be treacherous. Hence
there is still something added, something omitted, and
something varied from the truth : and the sum of many
such additions, deductions, and alterations, accumulated
for several ages, do, at the foot of the account, make quite
another thing.

Cri. Ancient facts we may know by tradition, oral or
written : and this latter we may divide into two kinds,
privat e and public , as writings are kept in the hands of
particula r rne n_,_ or recorded jn public archives. Now,
all these three sorts of tradition, for aught 1 can sec,
concur to aifest the genuine antiquity of the gospels.
And they_ ar^, strengthened by collateral evidence from
rites inslitutedj lestTvals observed, and monuments erected
byji ncien t Christians, sucii as churches, baptisteries, and
sepulchr es. Now, allowing your objection holds against
QBTTtradition, singly taken, yet I can think it no such
difficulty thing to transcribe faithfully. And things once
committed to writing are secure from slips of memory,
and may with common care be preserved entire so long
as the manuscript lasts : and this experience shews may be
above two thousand years. The Alexandrine manuscript '
is allowed to be above twelve hundred years old; and
it is highly probable there were then extant copies four
hundred years old. A tradition, therefore, of above sixteen
hundred years old need have only two or three links in
its chain. And these links, notwithstanding that great
length of time, may be very sound and entire. Since no
reasonable man will deny, that an ancient manuscript may
be of much the same credit now as when it was first
written. We have it on good authority, and it seems A j.
probable, that the primitive Christians were careful to'.y*
transcribe copies ot the gospels and epistles for their \ -*
private use ; and that other copies were preserved as J
public records, in the several churches throughout the
world ; and that portions thereof were constantly read

' Tlie latter part of Ihe sixth
century is the probable date of the
Alexandrian Codex, lliat celebrated

248 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

in their assemblies. Can more be said to prove the
writings of classic authors, or ancient records of any
kind authentic?

Alciphron, addressing his discourse to Euphranor, said
—It is one thing to silence an adversary, and another
to convince him. What do you think, Euphranor ?

Euph. Doubtless, it is.

Ale. But what I want is to be convinced.

Euph. That point is not so clear.

Ale. But if a man had ever so much mind, he cannot
be convinced by probable arguments against demonstra'
tion.

Euph, I grant he cannot.

4. Ale. Now it is as evident as demonstration can make
it, that no Divine faith can possibly be built uppjaJtraditiouJ.
Suppose an honest and credulous countryman catechised
and lectured every Sunday by his parish priest : it is plain
he believes in the parson, and not in God. He knows
nothing of revelations, and doctrines, and miracles but
what the priest tells him. This he believes, and this faith
is purely human. If you say he has the Liturgy and
the Bible for the foundation of his faith, the difficulty still
recurs. For, as to the Liturgy, he pins his faith upon the
civil magistrate, as well as the ecclesiastic : neither of
which can pretend Divine inspiration. Then for the Bible,
he takes both that and his Prayer-book on trust frpm the
printer, who, he believes, made true editions from true
copies. You see then faith, but what faith ? Faith i n the
priest, in the magistrate, in the printer, editor, transcriber;
none of which can with any pretence be called Divine.
I had the hint from Cratylus^; it is a shaft out of his quiver,
and believe me, a keen one.

Euph, Let me take and make trial of this same shaft
in my hands. Suppose then your countryman hears a
magistrate declare the law from the bench, or suppose he

* Cf. Tindal's Christianity as Old for natural religion, which is in-

as the Creation, ch. ix, xiii. Tin- dependent of history,
dal urges the inadequacy of his- * See Shaftesbury's Chamctens-

tory and tradition, as a fallible me- tics, vol. I. pp. 146-7 ; III. pP'd'^*

dium for a revelation of God, and 34. Cratylus represents Shaftes-

claims superiority in this respect bury.

TdE SIXTH DIALOGUF,

249

reads it in a statu te-bool;. What think you, is the printer
or the justice the true and proper object of his faith and
submission ? Or do you acknowledge a higher authority
whereon to found those loyal acts, andin which they do
really terminate ? Again, suppose you read a passage in
"Tacitus that you believe true ; would you say you assented
to it on the authority of the printer or transcriber rather
than the historian ?

A/c. Perhaps I would, and perhaps I would not. 1 do
»iot think myself obliged to answer these points. What
is this but transferring the question from one subject to
another? That which we considered was neither law nor
profane history, but religious tradition, and Divine faith.
I see plainly what you aim at, but shall never take for an
answer to one difficulty, the starting of another.

Cri. O Alciphron ! there is no taking hold of you, who
c.vpect that others should (as you were pleased to express ')
hold fair and stand firm, while you plucked out their
prejudices. How shall he argue with you but from your
concessions, and how can he know what you grant except
you will be pleased to tell him?

Euph, But, to save you the trouble, for once 1 will
suppose an answer. My question admits but of two
answers : take your choice. From the one it will follow
that, by a parity of reason, we can. easily conceive how
a man may have Divine faith, though he never felt inspira-
tion or saw a miracle':' mas much as it is equally possible
for the mind, through whatever conduit, oral or scriptural.
Divine revelation be derived, to carry its thoughts and
submission up to the source, and terminate its faith not
in human but Divine authority; not in the instrument or
vessel of conveyance, but in the great origin itself, as its
proper and true object. From the other answer it will
follow that you introduce a general scepticism into human
knowledge, and break down the hinges on which civil 1
government, and all the affairs of the world, turn and"|
depend: in a word, that you would destroy human faith I
to get rid of Divine ^ And how this agrees with your

' Dial. I. sect. 5, Crete universe in which we find

' If human lestimony ja .abso- ourselvea ia fundamtnlally tinih'

'uielyuntrustwortKyhumansociety vine, it is wholly unfit to be rea-

Hiust diasolve. AnS "iT ITic 1:011- soned abgul, as wc liavc then nu

250 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

professing that you want to be convinced I leave you t<>
consider.

5. Ale. I should in earnest be glad to be convinced one
way or other, and come to some conclusion. But I have
so many objections in store you are not to count much
upon getting over one. Depend on it you shall find me
behave like a gentleman and a lover of truth. I will
propose my objections briefly and plainly, and accept of
reasonable answers as fast as you can give them. Come^
Euphranor, make the most of your tradition ; you can
never make that a constant and universal one, which is
acknowledged to have been unknown, or at best disputed,
in the Church for several ages: — and this is the case of
the canon of the New Testament. For, though we have
now a canon, as they call it, settled, yet every one must
see and own that tradition cannot grow stronger by age;
and that what was uncertain in the primitive times cannot
be undoubted in the subsequent What say you to this,
Euphranor ?

Euph, I should be glad to conceive your meaning clearly
before I return an answer. It seems to me this objection
of yours supposeth that where a tradition hath been con-
stant and undisputed, such tradition may be admitted as
a proof; but that where the jiaditi on is -^d^ctive, the
proof must be so too. Is this your meaning?

Ale. It is.

Euph. Consequently the Gospels, and Epistles of St
Paul, which were universally received in the beginning,
and never since doubted of by the Church, must, notwith-
standing this objection, be in reason admitted for genuine.
And, if these books contain, as they really do, all those
points that come into controversy between you and me,
what need I dispute with you about the authority of some
other books 01 the New Testament, which came later
to be generally known and received in the Church? If
a man assent to the undisputed books, he is no longer arm-
guarantee for its orderliness, or for ception of goodness) in the taci- •-
reliance on our so-called faculties presupposition of all trustworthy "^

of knowledge. The eternal omni- intercourse, through expericnc^»
presence of omnipotent goodness with the universe of things a»^
(^according to our highest con- persons.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 251

infidel ; though he should not hold the Revelations, or the
Epistle of St. James or Jude, or the latter of St. Peter,
or the two last of St. John to be canonical. The addi-
tional authority of these portions of Holy Scripture may
have its weight in particular controversies between Chris-
tians, but can add nothing to arguments against an in-
fidel as such. Wherefore, though I believe good reasons
may be assigned for receiving these books, yet these
reasons seem now beside our purpose. When you are
a Christian it will be then time enough to argue this point.
And you will be the nearer being so, if the way be
shortened by omitting it for the present.

Ale. Not so near neither as you perhaps imagine : for,
notwithstanding all the fair anci plausible things you may
say about tradition, when I consider the spirit of forgery
which reigned in the primitive times, and reflect on the
several Gospels, Acts, and Epistles, attributed to the
apostles, which yet are acknowledged to be spurious,
I confess I cannot help suspecting the whole.

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, do you suspect all Plato's
writings for spurious, because the Dialogue upon Death,
for instance, is allowed to be so? Or will you admit
none of Tully's writings to be genuine, because Sigonius
imposed a book of his own writing for Tully's treatise
De CoHSolatione, and the imposture passed for some time
on the world ^ ?

Ale. Suppose I admit for the works of Tully and Plato
those that commonly pass for such. What then ?

Euph. Why then I would fain know whether it be equal
and impartial in a free-thinker, to measure the credibility
of profane and sacred books by a different rule. Let
us know upon what foot we Christians are to argue with
minute philosophers; whether we may be allowed the
benefit of common maxims in logic and criticism? If
we may, be pleased to assign a reason why supposititious
writings, which in the style and manner and matter bear

* Sigonius (Sigonio or Sigone), he was himself the author. It was

a famous Italian scholar and an- accepted at the time by many of

tiquary in the sixteenth century, the learned, and Tiraboschi was

who passed off as genuine a skilful undeceived only by finding letters

imitation of Cicero, in the form of in which Sigonius allows the for-

a treatise De Cottsoiatione, of which gery.

252 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

visible marks of imposture, and have accordingly been
rejected by the Church, can be made an argument against
those which have been universally received, and handed
down by an unanimous constant tradition, p I know nothing
truly valuable that hath not been counterfeited ; therefore
this argument is universal : but that which concludes
against all things is to be admitted against none.] There
have been in all ages, and in all great societies of men
many capricious, vain, or wicked impostors, who for dif-
ferent ends have abused the world by spurious writings,
and created work for critics both in profane and sacred
learning. And it would seem as silly to reject the true
writings of profane authors for the sake of the spurious,
as it would seem unreasonable to suppose, that among
the heretics and several sects of Christians there should
be none capable of the like imposture.

[^ Aic, I see no means for judging: it is all dark
and doubtful ; mere guess-work, at so great distance of
time.

Cri. But if I know that a number of fit persons, met
together in Council, did examine and distinguish authentic
writings from spurious, relating to a point of the highest
concern, in an age near the d ate of those writings ; though
I at the distance of many more centuries had no other
_proof, yet their decision may be of weight to determine my
judgment. Since it is probable they might have had
several proofs and reasons for what they did, and not
at all improbable that those reasons might be lost in so
long a tract of time ^]

6. Ale. JBut, be the tradition ever so well attested, and
the books ever so genuine, yet I cannot iiippose them
wrote by persons divinely inspired so long as I see in them
certain characters inconsistent with such a supposition.
Surely the purest language, the most perfect style, the
exactest method, and in a word all the excellences of
good writing, might be expected in a piece composed
or dictated iiy the Spirit of God. But books wherein we

' Introduced in the third edition. ^ [Vide Can. LX. Concil. Lao*

2 Introduced in the second edi- dicen.] — Author.
lion.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 253

find the reverse of all this, it were impious not to reject,
but to attribute to the Divinity \

Euph, Say, Alciphron, are the lakes, the rivers, or the
ocean, bounded by straight lines? Are the hills and
mountains exact cones or pyramids? Or the stars cast
into regular figures ?

Ak. They are not.

Euph. But in the works of insects we may observe
figures as exact as if they were drawn by the rule and
compass.

Ale, We may.

Euph. Should it not seem, therefore, that a regular
exactness, or scrupulous attention to what men call the
rulea^oLart, is not observed in the great productions of
the Author of nature ? ^ . -

Ale. It should.

Euph. And when a great prince declareth his will in
laws and edicts to his subjects, is he careful about a pure
style or elegant composition ? Does he not leave his
secretaries and clerks to express his sense in their own
words? Is not the phrase on such occasions thought
proper if it conveys as much ..aa .was intended ? And
WSuId not the divme stram of certain modern critics be
judged affected, and improper for such uses ?

Ale. It must be owned, laws, and edicts, and grants,
for solecism and tautology, are very offensive to the
harmonious ears of a fine writer.

Euph. Why then should we expect in the Oracles of
God an exactness that would be misbecoming and beneath
the dignity of an earthly monarch, and which bears no
proportion or resemblance to the magnificent works of
the creation?

Ale. But, granting that a nice regard to particles and
critical rules is a thing too little and mean to be expected
in Divine revelations ; and that there is more force, and
spirit, and true greatness in a negligent, unequal style,
than in the well-turned periods of a polite writer; — yet
what is all this to the bald and flat compositions of those
you call the Divine penmen ? I can never be persuaded
the Supreme Being would pick out the poorest and meanest
scribblers for his secretaries.

' See Shaftesbury's Characteristics ^ vol. III. pp. 229-35.

254 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph. O Alciphron ! if I durst follow my own judgment^
I should be apt to think there are noble beauties in the
style of the Holy Scripture : in the narrative parts a strain
so simple and unaffected : in the devotional and prophetic
so animated and sublime: and in the doctrinal parts such
an air of dignity and authority as seems to speak their
original Divine. But I shall not enter into a dispute
about taste; much less set up my judgment on so nice
a point against that of the wits, and men of genius, with
which your sect abounds. And I have no temptation
to it, inasmuch as it seems to me the Oracles of God are
not the less so for being delivered in a pl ain dress, rather
than in ' the enticing words of man's wisdgm^

Ale, This may perhaps be an apology for some simpK-
city and negligence in writing.

7. But what apology can be made for nonsense, crude
nonsense ? * Of which I could easily assign many instances,
having once in my life read the Scripture through with that
very view. Look here, said he, opening a Bible, in the
forty-ninth Psalm, the author begins magnificently, calling
upon all the inhabitants of the earth to give ear, and
assuring them his mouth shall speak of wisdom, and the
meditation of his heart shall be of understanding :

Quid dignum tanto feret hie promissor hiatu ?

He hath no sooner done with his preface but he puts
this senseless question, * Wherefore should I fear in the
days of evil; when the wickedness of my heels shall
compass me about ? ' The iniquity of my heels ! What
nonsense after such a solemn introduction I

Euph. For my own part, I have naturally weak e3res,
and know there are many things that I cannot see, which
are nevertheless distinctly seen by others. I do not there-
fore conclude a thing to be absolutely invisible, because
it is so to me. And, since it is possible it may be with
my understanding as it is with my eyes, J date_.notpro-
nounce a thing to be nonsense, because I do not~unaef-
stand it. Of this passage many interpretations are given.
The word rendered heels may signify fraud or supplanta-
tion : by some it is translated 'past wickedness,' the heel

* SoTindal.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 255

being the hinder part of the foot; by others iniquity
in the end of my days/ the heel being one extremity of
the body ; by some ' the iniquity of my enemies that may
supplant me *; by others ' my own faults or iniquities which
I have passed over as light matters, and trampled under
my feet.* Some render it ' the iniquity of my ways * ;
others, ' my transgressions, which are like slips and slidings
of the heel/ And after all, might not this expression,
so harsh and odd to English ears, have been very natural /
and o byious in th e Hebrew tongue, which, as every other v
l anguage, had its idio ms ? the force and propriety whereof
may as easily be conceived lost in a long tract of time,
as the signification of some Hebrew words which are not
now intelligible, though nobody doubts but they had once
a meaning as well as the other words of that language.
Granting, therefore, that certain passag es in th e Holy
Scriptureju ay not be u nderstoodp it will not Jhfince foUow
that its penman wr ote no nsen se: fo r Xj?onceiy£.JiQlisense
to b e ofle ttrt ffgj^an^lim^^ another.

Cr%, An English gentleman of my acquaintance one
day entertaining some foreigners at his house sent a
servant to know the occasion of a sudden tumult in the
yard, who brought him word, 'the horses were fallen
together by the ears.* His guests inquiring what the
matter was, he translates it literally, Les chevaux sont
tombez ensemble par les oreilles : which made them stare ;
what expressed a very plain sense in the original English
being incomprehensible when rendered word for word
into French. And I remember to have heard a man excuse
the bulls of his countrymen, by supposing them so many
literal translations.

Euph. But, not to grow tedious, I refer to the critics and
commentators, where you will find the use of this remark,
which, clearing up several obscure passages you take
for nonsense, may possibly incline you to suspect your
own judgment of the rest. In this very psalm you have
pitched on, the good sense and moral contained in what
follows, should, methinks, make a candid reader judge
favourably of the original sense of the author, in that
part which he could not understand. Say, Alciphron,
in reading the classics, do you forthwith conclude every
passage to be nonsense that you cannot make sense of?

255 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Ale. By no means ; difficulties must be supposed to
/ \ rise from different idioms, old customs, hints, and allusions,
i clear in one time or place, and obscure in another.

Euph. And why will you not judge of Scripture by the
same rule ? These sources of obscurity you mention are
all common both to sacred and profane ^^gitings; and
there is no doubt but an exacter knowFedge in language
and circumstances would in both cause difficulties to vanish
like shades before the light of the sun. Jeremiah, to
describe a furious invader, saith, * Behold he shall come
up as a lion from the swelling of Jordan against the
habitation of the strong *^ One would be apt to think
this passage odd and improper, and that it had been more
reasonable to have said, 'a lion from the mountain
or the desert.' But travellers, as an ingenious man
observes, who have seen the river Jordan bounded by
low lands with many reeds or thickets affording shelter
to wild beasts (which being suddenly dislo^ed Ijy a fapil
overflowing of the river rush into the upland country),
perceive the force and propriety of the comparison ; and
that the difficulty proceeds, not from nonsense in_the
writer, but from ignorance in the reader ^

* Jer. xlix. 19.

^ The following sentences added
here in the first and second edi-
tions^ were withdrawn in the third :
— ' It is needless to amass together
instances which may be found in
every commentator. I only beg
leave to observe, that sometimes
men looking higher or deeper than
they need, for a profound or re-
mote sense, overlook the natural
obvious sense, lying, if I may so
say, at their feet, and so make
difficulties instead of finding them.
This seems to be the case of that
celebrated passage, which hath
created so much work, in St. Paul's
First Epistle to the Corinthians * :
"What shall they do which are
baptized for the dead, if the dead
rise not at all ? Why are they then
baptized for the dead?" I remember

to have heard this text explained
by Laches, the vicar of our parish,
to my neighbour Lycon, who was
much perplexed about its meaning.
If it had been translated, as it might
very justly " baptized for the sake
of the dead,*' I do not see, said
Laches, why people should be
puzzled about the sense of this
passage; for, teU me, I beseech
you, for whose sake do you think
those Christians were baptized?
For whose sake, answered Lycon,
but their own ? How do you mean !
for their own sake in this life, or
the next? Doubtless, in the next;
for it was plain they could get
nothing by it in this. They were
then, replied Laches, baptized not
for the sake of themselves while
living, but for the sake of them-
selves when dead ; not for the

* I Corinth, xv. 29.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

257

A/c. Here and there a difficult passage may be cleared :
but there are many which no art or wit of man can account
for. What say you to those discoveries, made by some of
our learned writers, of false citations from the Old Testa-
ment found in the Gospel?

Eiiph. That some few passages are cited by the writers
of the New Testament out of the Old, and by the Fathers
out of the New, which are not in so many words to be
found in them, is no new discovery of minute philosophers,
but was known and observed long before by Christian
writers; who have made no scruple to grant that some
things might have been inserted by careless or mistaken
transcribers into the text, from the margin, others left out,
and others altered ; whence so many various readings.
But these are things of small moment, and which all other
ancient authors have been subject to ; and upon which no
point of doctrine depends which may not be proved without
them. Nay further, if it be any advantage to your cause,
it hath been observed, that the eig hteenth Psalm, as re-
cited in the tw enty -second chap ter ot the becond Book of
Samuel, vaWeSTn about forty places, 11 you regard every
little verbal or literal difference ; and that a critic may
now and then discover small variations is what nobody
can deny. But, to make the most of these concessions,
what can you infer from them more than that the design of
the Holy Scripture was not to make us exactly knowing
in circumstantials? and that the Spirit did not dictate
every particle and syllable, or preserve them from every
miriiite alteration by miracle? which to believe, would
took like Rabbinical superstition.

Ale. But what marks of Divinity can possibly be in
writings which do not reach the exactness even of human
art?

Euph. I never thought nor expected that the Holy

living, hut

Baptism, therelore, must nave Deen
to Ihem B fruitless thing, if the
dead rise not at all I It must.
Whence Laches inferred that St.
Paul's BfEument was clear and
pertinent for the resurrection :
and Lycon allowed it to be argu-
mmlHiH ad hommem to those who

had sought baptism,
then, concluded Laches
sity ibr supposing that living men
were in those da jis baptized instead
of those who died without baptism,
or of running into any other odd
suppositions or strained and far'
fetched interpretation to make
sense of this passage.'

258 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Scripture should shew itself Divine, by a circumstantial
accuracy of narration, by exactness of method, by strictly
observing the rules of rhetoric, grammar, and criticism, in
harmonious periods, in elegant and choice expressions, or
in technical definitions and partitions. These things would
look too like a human composition. Methinks there is in
that simple, unaffected, artless, unequal, bold, figurative
style of the Holy Scripture, a character singularly great
and majestic, and that looks more like Divine inspiration
than any other composition that 1 know. But, as I said
before, I shall not dispute a point of criticism with the
gentlemen of your sect, who, it seems, are the modem
standard for wit and taste.

Ale. Well, I shall not insist on small slips, or the in-
accuracy of citing or transcribing. And 1 freely own, that
repetitions, want of method, or want of exactness in
circumstances, are not the things that chiefly stick with
me; no more than the plain patriarchal manners, or the
peculiar usages and customs of the Jews and firsi
Christians, so different from ours ; and that to reject
the Scripture on such accounts would be to act like those
French wits who censure Homer because they do not find
in him the style, notions, and manners of their own age
and country. Was there nothing else to divide us, 1
should make no great diiBculty of owning that a popular
incorrect style might answer the general ends of revC'
lation, as well perhaps as a more critical and exact one.
But the obscurity still sticks with me. Methinks if the
supreme Being had spoke to man, He would have spoke
clearly to him, and that the Word of God should not need
a comment.

8. Eiiph. You seem, Alciphron, to think obscurity
a defect ; but if it should prove to be no defect, there
would then be no force in this objection.

Ate. I grant there would not.

Euph. Pray tell me, are not speech and style instru-
mental to convey thoughts and notions, to beget knowledge,
opinion, and assent ?

Ale, This is true.

Euph. And is not the perfec_tion of an instalment to he
measured by the use to whlclf it is subservient ?

ent ^^m

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

TAIc. It is.

Eufih. What therefore is a defect in one instrument
majjbe-none in another. For instance, edged tools are
in general designed to cut ; but, the uses of an axe and
a razor being diflerent, it is no defect~Iii an axe that it
hath not the keen edge of a razor ; nor in a razor that it
hath not the weight or strength of an axe.

A/c, I acknowledge this to be true,

£uph. And may we not say in general, that every in-
strument is perfect which answers the purpose or intention
of him who useth it ?

j4/c. We may.

Euph, Hence it seems to follow, that no man's speech
is defective in point of clearness, though it should not be
inteiligible to all men, if it be sufficiently so to those who
he intended should understand it ; or though it should not
in all parts be equally clear, or convey a perfect know-
ledge, where he intended only an imperfect hint.

Ale. It seems so.

Euph. Ought we not therefore to know the intention of
the speaker, to be able to know whether his style be
obscure through defect or design ?

Ale. We ought.

Euph. But is it possible for one man to know all the
ends and purposes of God's revelations?

Ale. It is not.

Euph. How then can you tell but the obscurity of some
parts of Scripture may weil consist with the purpose which
yoU" know riot', and consequently be no argument against
its coming from God ? The books of Holy Scripture
Were written in ancient languages, at distant times, on
sundry occasions, and very different subjects. Is it not,
therefore, reasonable to imagine that some parts or
passages might have been clearly enough understood by
those for whose proper use they were principally designed,
and yet seem obscure to us, who speak another language,
and live in other times? Is it at all absurd or unsuitable
to the notion we have of God or man, to suppose that God
niay reveal, and yet reveal with a reserve upon certain
remote and sublime subjects, content to give us hints and
glimpses, rather than views? May we not also suppose,
from the reason of things and the analogy of nature, that

36o

ATXIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

some points, which might otherwise have been more
clearly explained, were left obscure merely to encourage
our diligence and modesty ? Two virtues, which, if it
might not seem disrespectful to such great men, 1 woulil
recommend to the minute philosophers'.

Lysicles replied, This indeed is excellent ! You expect
that men of sense and spirit should in great humility put
out their eyes, and blindly swallow all the absurdities ami
nonsense that shall be offered to them for Divine reve-
lation.

Euph. On the contrary, I would have them open iheir
eyes, look\sharply, and try the spirit, whether it is of God;
and not supinely and ignorantly condemn in the gross all
religions together, piety with superstition, truth for the
sake of error, matter of fact for the sake of fiction : a coii'
duct which at lirst" sight would seem absurd in historj',
physic, or any other branch of human inquiry. But, to
compare the Christian system, or Holy Scriptures, with
other pretences to Divine revelation ; to consider impart'
ally the doctrines, precepts, and events therein contained ;
weigh them in the balance with any other religious, natural,
nioral, or historical accounts ; and diligently ~Eo"^aiiune
all those proofs, internal and externaI7 that for so many
ages have been able to influence and persuade so many
wise, learned, and inquisitive men— perhaps they might
find in it certain peculiar characters which sufficiently
distinguish it from all other religions and pretended reve-
lations, whereon to ground a reasonable faith. In which
case, I leave them to consider whether it would bei^it W
reject with peremptory scorn a revelatio n so disB fifu^ed
and attested, upon account of oBsetrnty"in some parts of
^it ? and whether it would seem -beneath men of their
sense and spirit to acknowledge that, for aught they know,
a light inadequate to things may yet be adequate to the
purpose of Providence ? and whether it "ml^Tt be un-
becoming their sagacity and critical skill to own, that
literal translations from books in an ancient oriental
tongue, wherein there are so many peculiarities, as to the

' Some people are apt to pre- medium, rather than in a maciiei'

suppose thatCodmust bercvealcd, adapted to eneoumge diligent i'°-

if at all, through a perfectly lucid quirj', and to keep in constant cio-

■nd in all respects verbal infallible cise the moral venture of faith-

HE SIXTH DIALOGUE

261

manner of writing, the figures of speech, and structure of
the phrase, so remote from all our modern idioms, and in
which we have no other coeval writings extant, might well
be obscure in many places, especially such as treat of sub-
jects sublime and difficult in their own nature, or allude to
things, customs, or events very distant from our know-
ledge ? And lastly, whether it might not become their
character, as impartial and unprejudiced men, to consider
the Bible in the same light they would profane authors?
They are apt to make great allowance for transpositions,
omissions, and literal^ errors of transcribers in other
ancient books-; aii3"vefy great Tor the difference of style
an3~Tnanner, especially in Eastern writings, such as the
remains of Zoroaster and Confucius, and why not in the
Prophets? in reading HOTSte~of Pcrsius, to make out
the sense, they will be atllTep'ains to-discover a hidden
dramaj and why not in Solomon or St. Paul? I hear
there are certain ingenious men who despise King David's
poetryi and yet profess to admire FTpmer and Pindar. If
there be no prejudice or affectation in this, let' them but
make a literal version from those authors into English
prose, and they will then be better able to judge of the
Psalms.

Aic. You may discourse and expatiate ; but, notwith-
standing all you have said or shall say, it is a clear point,
that a revelation which doth not reveal can be no better
than a contradiction in terms.

Eitph. Tell me, Alciphron, do you not acknowledge the
light of the sun to be the most glorious production of
Providence in this natural world ?
Ale. Suppose I do.

Ettph. This light, nevertheless, which you cannot deny
lo be of God's making, shines only on the surface of things,
shines not at all in the night, shines imperfectly in the
twilight, is often interrupted, refracted, and obscured,
represents distant things and small things dubiously, im-
perfectly, or not at all. Is this true or no ?
Ale. It is.

Etiph. S hould itjiqt follow, therefore, that to expect in
this world_a lightTrom God, without any mixture of shade *=
onViystery, would be departing from the rule and analogy
of the creation ? and that, consequently, it is no argument

262 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

the light of revelation is not Divine, because it may not be
so clear and full as you expect [ ; ' or because it may not
equally shine at all times, or in all places].

Ale. As 1 profess myself candid and indifferent through-
out this debate, I must needs own you say some plausible ^
things, as a man of argument will never fail to do in vindi- —
cation of his prejudices.

9. But, to deal plainly, I must tell you, once for all, tha.^^
you may question and answer, illustrate, and enlarge for-
ever, without being able to convince me that the Christian
Religion is of divine revelation. I have said severa/
things, and have many" more to say, which, believe me,
have weight not only with myself, but with many greal
men my very good friends, and will have weight whatever
Euphranor can say to the contrary.

Euph. O Alciphron ! I envy you the happiness of sucli
acquaintance. But, as my lot, fallen in this remote corner,
deprives me of that advantage, I am obliged to make the
most of this opportunity which you and Lysicles have pul
into my hands. I consider you as two able chirurgeons,
and you were pleased to consider me as a patient, whose
cure you have generously undertaken. Now, a patienl
must have full liberty to explain his case, and tell all his
symptoms, theconc ealioE or pallia ting of whichmightprevenl
a perfecLcuFfc- You will be pleased therefore to under-
stand~^Tie, not as objecting to, or arguing against, either
your skill or medicines, but only as setting forth my owfTI
case, and the effects they have upon me. Say, Alciphron,
did you not give me to understand that you would extirpate
my prejudices ?

Ale. It is true : a good physician eradicates every, iibre
of the disease. Come, you shall have a patient hearing.

Euph. Pray, was it not the opinion of Plato, that God
inspired particular men, as organs or trumpets, to proclaim
and sound forth his oracles to the world ' ? And was not
the same opinion also embraced by others the greatest
writers of antiquity?

Cri. SsP^es seems to have thought that all true poets
spoke by inspiration ; and TuUy, that there was no extra-

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 263

'^^dinary genius without it. This hath made some of our
effected free-thinkers attempt to pass themselves upon the
"^orld for enthusiasts.

Ale. What would you infer from all this ?

Euph. I would infer that inspiration should sppm.nnthin^
impossibl e or absurd, but raTher agreeable to_the light of
reason andThe notions of mankind. And this, 1 suppose,
you will acknowledge, having made it an objection against
a particular revelation, that there are so many pretences to
it throughout the world,

Ak. O Euphranorl he who looks into the bottom of
things, and resolves them into their first principles, is not
easily amused with words. The word inspiration sounds
indeed big, but let us, if you please, take an original view
of the thing signified by it. To inspire is a word borrowed
from the Latin, and, strictly taken, means no more than to
breathe or blow in : nothing, therefore, can be inspired but
what can be blown or breathed ; and nothing can be so
but wind or vapour, which indeed may fill or puff up men
with fanatical and hypochondriacal ravings. This sort of
inspiration I very readily admit,

Euph. What you say is subtle, and I know not what
effect it might have upon me, if your profound discourse
did not hinder its own operation.

Ale. How so ?

Euph. Tell me, Alciphron, do you discourse, or do you
not ? To me it seems that you discourse admirably.

Ale. Be that as it will, it is certain I discourse.

Euph. But, when I endeavour to look into the bottom of
things, behold ! a scruple riseth in my mind how this can
be ; for, to discourse is a word of Latin derivation, which
originally signifies to run about ; and a man cannot run
about but he must change place, and move his legs; so
long, therefore, as you sit on this bench, you cannot be
said to discourse. Solve me this difficulty, and then per-
haps I may be able to solve yours.

Ale. You are to know, that discourse is a word borrowed
from sensible things, to express an invisible action of the
mind, reasoning or inferring one thing from another; and,
in this translated sense, we may be said to discourse though
wc sit still.

Euph. And may we not as well conceive that the term

364 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

inspiration might be borrowed from sensible things, »
denote an action of God, in an extraordinary manne=r^
influencing, exciting, and enlightening the mind of a pi — c
phel or an apostle ? who, in this secondary, figurative, an</
translated sense, maj^ truly be said to be inspired, tjiougi

here shftuldbe nothing in th e case of that wmH^r vapot?/

mplied.!STR!?Il

in the s oul of man.
Ehe 5 ame^TTT-att-ct her" animals. And, these things being
ordinary and natural, what hinders but we may conceive
it possible for the human mind, upon an extraordinaiy
account, to be moved in an extraordinary manner, and ils
faculties stirred up and actuated by supernatural power?
That there are, and have been, and are likely to be, wild
visions and hypochondriacal ravings, nobody can deny;
but, to infer from thence that there are no true inspirations
would be too like concluding, that some men are not in
their senses, because other men are fools. And, thoi^ii
I am no prophet, and consequently cannot pretend to a
clear notion of this matter, yet I shall not therefore take
upon me to deny but a true prophet or inspired person
might have had a certain means of discerning between
Divine inspiration and hypochondriacal fancy, as you can
between sleeping and waking, till you have proved the
contrary. You may meet in the book of Jeremiah with
this passage—' The prophet that hath a dream let him tell
a dream : and he that hath my word, let him speak my
word faithfully : what is the chaff to the wheat, saith the
Lord ? Is not my word like as a fire, saith the Lord, and
like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces ' ? ' You
see here a distinction made between wheat and chaff, true
and spurious, with the mighty force and power of the
former. But I beg pardon for quoting Scripture to you-
1 make my appeal to the general sense of mankind, and
the opinion of the wisest heathens, which seems sufficient
to conclude Divine inspiration possible, if not probable,
at least till you prove the contrary.

•LJor

i, ag-l-Aui

■ THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 265

V'lo. Aic. The possibility of inspirations and revelations
■■ do not think it necessary to deny. iWake the best you
'^an of this concession.

Euph. Now what is allowed possible we may suppose
in fact.
Ale. We may.

Euph. Let us then suppose that God had been pleased
lo make a revelation to men; and that He inspired some
as a means to i nstruc t others. Haviijg supposed this, can
you deny that their inspired diacQitrses and revelations
might have been committed to writing, or that, being
written, after a long tract of time they might become
in several places obscure ; that some of them might
even originally have been less clear than others, or
that they might suffer some alteration by frequent trans-
cribing, as other writings are known to have done? Ja .
it not ei:en_iery_probableL-that-aIL_the§e things would
happen?
j4lc. I grant it.

Euph. And, granting this, with what pretence can you
reject the Holy Scriptures as not being Divine, upon the
account of such signs or marks as you acknowledge would
probably attend a Divine revelation transmitted down to
us through so many ages ?

Ale. But allowing all that in reason you can desire, and
granting that this may account for some obscurity, may
reconcile some small differences, or satisfy us how £
difficulties might arise, by inserting, omitting, or changing,
here and there a '''t'^''''t_g__W(ird, nr pp-rhapg a gpntp-ni-f ;
ve t these are but small m atters , in respect of th e much
more consi derable and weighty objections I could produce
agaiiiBl ll IE" confessed doctrines, or subject-matter of those
writings. Let us see what is contained in these sacred
books, and then judge whether it is probable or possible
such revelations should ever have been made by God. Now,
I defy the wit of man to contrive anything more extravagant
than the accounts we there find of apparitions, devils,
miracles, God manifest in the flesh, regeneration, grace,
self-denial, resurrection of the dead, and such-like agri
somnia: things so odd, unaccountable, and remote from
the apprehension of mankind, you may as soon wash a
blackaniore white as clear them of absurdity. No critical

266 AT.CH'HRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

skill can justify them, no tradition recommend them, I mil
not say for Divine revelations, but even for the inventions
of men of sense.

Eufi/i. I liad always a great opinion of your sagacity, but
now, Alciphron, I consider you as something more than
man ; else how should it be possible for you to know what,
or how far, it may be proper for God to reveal ? Methinks
it may consist with all due deference to the greatest of
human understandings, to suppose them ignorant of many
things, which are not suited to their faculties, or lie out
of their reach. Even the counsels of princes lie often
beyond the ken of their subjects, who can only know so
much as is revealed by those at the helm; and are often
unqualified to judge of the usefulness and tendency even
of that, till in due time the scheme unfolds, and is accounted
for by succeeding events. That many joints c ontained in
Holy_Scripture are remote from the comriion apprehensions
of mankind cannol be denied. But r~a6^^t see that_ it
follows from thence they are not_ of Divine revelation.
On the contrary, should it not seem reasonable to suppose
tliat a revelation from God should contain something
different in kind, or more excellent in degree, than
what lay open to the common sense of men, or could
even be discovered by the most sagacious philosopher?
Accounts of separate spirits, good or bad, prophecies,
miracles, and such things, are undoubtedly strange; but
I would fain see how you can prove them impossible or
absurd.

j41c. Some things there are so evidently absurd that it
would be almost as silly to disprove them as to believe
them ; and I take these to be of that class.

II. Euph. But is it not possible some men may shew
as much p rejudice and narrowness in rpjprting ^\\ mirh
accounts a s others might ea siji ps^ atu j creduU ty in admittiiig
them?" r never durst make my own observation or experi-
•enceThe rule and measure of things spiritual, supernatural,
or relating to another world ; because I should think it
a very bad one even for the visible and natural things of
this. It would be judging like the Siamese, who was
positive it did not freeze in Holland, because he had never
known such a thing as hard water or ice in his own

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

■J^untry'. I cann ot comprehend why any one whn admits
'■h e u nion of t he soul an d body should pronounce it im -
po ssible lor tnc human iTatu r p tn he united to the Divitw,
'n a manner ineMabie and^ncomprehensible by reason-
neither fan T tipp any absurdity in admitting that sinful
lHan may become regeiierate, or a new creature, by the
grace of God reclaiming him from a carnal life to a spiritual
life of virtue and holiness. And since the being governed
by sense and appetite is contrary to the happiness and
perfection of a rational creature, I do not at a ll wonder
that we are prescri bed self-denial. "As tor the resuTTeCtton
of the dead, 1 do~not conceive it so very contrary to the
analogy of nature, when I behold vegetables left to rot in
the earth rise up again with new life and vigour, or a worm,
to all appearance dead, change its nature, and that,3iiich
in its first being crawled on the earth, become _ a^_new
sp ecies, and fly abroad with wings^And indeed, when
I consider that the souf and body are things so very
dit frrpnr and hr tf mgi'n^nng^ 1 rpn spp nn rpagnn tn he
positive that the one must necessarily be extinguished
upon the dissolution of the other; especially since I find
in myself a strong natural desire of immortality, and I have
not observed that natural appetites are wont to be given in
vain, or merely to be frustrated. Upon the whole, those
points which you account extravagant and absurd, I dare
not pronounce to be so till I see good reason for it.

12. Cn', No, Alciphron, your positive airs must not pass
for proofs; nor will it suffice to say, things are contrary
sense, to make us think they are so. By

' The argument here controverted,
as well as this illustration, reappears
thus in Hume's ciiticism of miracle.
A miracle, he assumes, is ' a viola-
lion of the Uws of nature : and as
a firm and unalterable ej<perience
has established these laws, the
proof against a miracle, from the
very nature of the fact, is as eniirc
&s any argument from "experience"
can possibly be imagined. . . . The
Indian prince who refused to be-
lieve the Gr^t relations concerning
the effects of frost reasoned justly."

In this Hume concludes i
sively from empirical data,
empirical data alone do not j
faith in future unalterableness in
customary sequences, Besidesthis,
' thus contrasted with

ify

' Iraditi

us. No.

jony I

lis know-
ledge of what happens in the
universe to his own individual
experience; nndwhen he includes
the experience of others, this must
be gained by their testimony.

268

ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

common sense, I suppose, should be meant, either the
general sense of mankind, or the improved reason of
thinking men '. Now, I believe that all those articles you
have with so much capacity and fire at once summed up
and exploded may be sliewn to be not disagreeable, much
less contrary, to common sense in one or other of these
acceptations. That the gods might appear and converse
among men, and that the Divinity might inhabit human
nature, were points allowed by the heathens ; and for this
1 appeal to their poets and philosophers, whose testimonies
are so numerous and clear that it would be an affront to
repeat them to a man of any education. And, though the
notion of a Devil' may not be so obvious, or so fully
described, yet there appear plain traces of it, either from
reason or tradition. The latter Platonists, aa Porphyry
and JambJichus, are very clear in the point, allowing that
evil demons delude and tempt, hurt and possess mankind.
That the ancient Greeks, Chaldeans, and Egyptians believed
both good and bad angels may be plainly collected from
Plato, Plutarch, and the Chaldean oracles. Origen ob-
serves, that almost all the Gentiles, who held the being
of demons, allowed there were bad ones'. There is even
something as early as Homer, that is thought by the
learned Cardinal Bessarion * to allude to the fall of Satan,
in the account of Ate, whom the poet represents as cast
down from heaven by Jove, and then wandering about
the earth, doing mischief to mankind. The same Ate is
said by Hesiod to be the daughter of Discord: and by
Euripides, in his Hippolytus, is mentioned as a tempter
to evii. And it is very remarkable that Plutarch, in his
book Dc Vitando ^rc Alieno, speaks, after Empedocles, of
certain demons that fell from heaven, and were banished
by God, Alu)«)^Ei fltjJXaTot «at oiptu-oTrtitts. Nor is that less
remarkable which is observed by Ficinus, from Pherecydes

' The term common sen^n lias two
iDeBnings, the popular and thephilo-
sophical. Popularly it expresses
the average &ith snd intelligence
of men : philosophically, this faith
and intelligence developed and
enlightened by rational criticistn,
according lo the best thought of
the time, in the progressive philo-

sophical evolution, and all vindi-
cated against fundamental doubt.

' The result of more receol
critical examination of the hiatoty
of this notion modifies what follows.

' [Origen, Lib. VII. contra M-
suin. 1 — Author.

' [In Ca
III. cap. 7.}— At

nniat PlatOiii&J^—

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 269

Syrus, that there had been a downfall of demons who
revolted from God; and that Ophioneus (the old serpent)
was head of that rebellious crew'. Then, as to other
articles, let any one consider what the Pythagoreans taught
of the purgation and AuVis, or deliverance of the soul : what
most philosophers, but especially the Stoics, of subduing
our passions : what Plato and Hieroclea have said of for-
giving injuries : what the acute and sagacious Aristotle
writes in his Ethics to Nicomachus, of the spiritual and
Divine life — that life which, according to him, is too
excellent to be thought human ; insomuch as man, so far
forth as man, cannot attain to it, but only so far forth as
he has something Divine in him : and, particularly, let
him reflect on what Socrates taught, to wit, that virtue is
not to be learned from men, that it is the gift of God, and
that good men are not good by virtue of human care or dili-
gence, oiiK ttvai ilf8fHryjrivrjv fTriiUXiiav -g cl-ymSoi iyaOoi yiyvoi^ai '.
Let an y man who reallY thinli -i hut "^ i li 1 i rlrif ■■ni"r

thinVJnjr mf.n ha»P thiMighl-^ y,hri rannnt hi- ciippnggfl pi-a-

jiiHi rgd in favour of revealed religion : and he will see
cause, if not to think with reverence of the Christian
doctrines of grace, self-denial, regeneration, sanctification,
and the rest, even the most mysterious, at least to judge
more modestly and warily than those who shall, with
a confident air, pronounce them absurd, and repugnant to
the reason of mankind. And, in regard to a future state,
the common sense of the gentile world, modern or ancient,
and the opinions of the wisest men of antiquity, are things
so well known, that I need say nothing about them''. To
me it seems, the minute philosophers, when they appeal
to reason and common sense, mean only the sense of their
own party : a coin, how current soever among themselves,
that other men will bring to the touchstone, and pass for
no more than it is worth.
Lys. Be those notions agreeable to what or whose sense

' [Vide Argum. in Phi
Piat on is .] —Author.

' [VLde Plat, in Protag. t
passim .] — Author.

' The rationale of hope
better life after death is noi
gone into by Berkeley. 1
hope not so far founded on

consistency of the inevitable faith
in Omnipotent Goodness with the
supposition that this mixed and
confused life is the only life of
the persons who inhabit our planet
—in a universe that is csaentially

270 AI.CIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

they may, they are not agreeable to mine. And if I am
thought Ignorant for this, I pity those who think me so.

13. 1 enjoy myself, and follow my own courses, without
remorse or fear ; which 1 should not do, if my head were
filled with enthusiasm ; whether gentile or Christian,
philosophical or revealed, it is all one to me. Let others
know or believe what they can, and make the best of it;
I, for my part, am happy and safe in my ignorance.

Cri. Perhaps not so safe neither.

Lys. Why, surely you will not pretend that ignorance is
criminal ?

Cri. Ignorance alone is not a crime. But that wilful
ignorance, affected ignorance, ignorance from sloth, or
conceited ignorance, is a fault, might easily be proved by
the testimony of heathen writers ; and it needs no proof to
shew that, if ignorance be our fault, we cannot be secure
in it as an excuse.

Lys. Honest Crito seems to hint that a man should take
care to inform himself while alive, lest his neglect be
punished when he is dead. Nothing is so pusillammous
and unbecoming a gentleman as fear ; nor could you- take
a likelier course to fix and rivet a"nian of honour in guiit,
than by attempting to frighten him out of it. This is the
stale absurd stratagem of priests, and that which makes
them and their religion more odious and contemptible to
me than all the other articles put together,

Cri. I would fain know why it may not be reasonable
for a man of honour, or any man who has done amiss,
to fear. Guilt is the natural parent of fear ; and nature is
not used to make men fear where there is no occasion.
That impious and profane men should expect Divine
punishment doth not seem so absurd to conceive : and
that, under this expectation, they should be uneasy and
even afraid, how consistent soever it may or may not
be with honour, I am sure consists with reason,

Lys. That thing of hell and eternal punishment is the
most absurd as well as the most disagreeable thought thai
ever entered the head of mortal man.

Cri, But you must own that it is not an absurdity peculiar
to Christians, since Socrates, that great free-thinker of
Athens, thought it probable there may be such a thing as

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

271

impious men for ever punished in hell '. It is recorded of
this same Socrates, that he has been often known to think
for four-and- twenty hours together, fixed in the same pos-
ture, and wrapped up in meditation,

Lys. Our modern free-thinkers are a more lively sort of
men. Those old philosophers were most of them whimsical.
They had, in my judgment, a dry, narrow, timorous way of
thinking, which by no means came up to the frank humour
of our times.

Cti. But I appeal to your own judgment, if a man who
knows not the nature of the sou! can be assured, by the
light of reason, whether it is mortal or immortal ?
An simul intereal nobiscum morle perempta,

Lys. But what if 1 know the nature of the soul ? What
if I have been taught that whole secret by a modern free-
thinker? a man of science who discovered it not by a tire-
some introversion of his faculties, not by amusing himself
in a labyrinth of notions, or stupidly thinking for whole
days and nights together, but by looking into things, and
observing the analogy of nature.

14. This great man is a philosopher by fire, who has
made many processes upon vegetables. It is his opinion
that men and vegetables are really of the same species ;
that animals are moving vegetables, and vegetables fixed
animals ; that the mouths of the one and the roots of the
other serve to the same use, differing only in position ;
that blossoms and flowers answer to the most indecent
and concealed parts of the human body ; that vegetable
and animal bodies are both alike organised, and that in
both there is Hfc, or a certain motion and circulation of
juices through proper tubes or vessels. I shall never
forget this able man's unfolding the nature of the soul
in the following manner: — The soul, said he, is that
Specific form or principle from whence proceed the distinct
qualities or properties of things. Now, as vegetables are
a more simple and less perfect compound, and consequently
more easily analysed than animals, we will begin with the

' [Vide Platon.

Gorgm-]-

B72 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

contemplation of the souls of vegetables. Know then tAj,-
the soul of any plant, rosemary for instance, is neicAer
more nor less than its essential oil '. Upon this depends
its peculiar fragrance, taste, and medicinal virtues, or in
I other words its life and operations. Separate or extract
this essential oil by chemic art, and you get the soul of the
plant ; what remains being a dead carcass, without anyone
property or virtue of the plant, which is preserved entire
in the oil, a drachm whereof goes further than several
pounds of the plant. Now this same essential oil is itself
a composition of sulphur and salt, or of a gross unctuous
substance, and a fine subtle principle or volatile Si!t
imprisoned therein'. The volatile salt is properly the
essence of the soul of the plant, containing all its virtue;
and the oil is the vehicle of this most subtle part of the
soul, or that which fixes and individuates it. And as,
upon separation of this oil from the plant, the plant dies,
so a second death, or death of the soul, ensues upon the
resolution of this essential oil into its principles ; as appears
by leaving it exposed for some time to the open air, so
that the volatile salt or spirit may fly off; after which
the oil remains dead and insipid, but without any sensible
diminution of its weight, by the loss of that vola tile essen ce
of the so ul, th at eth ereal a ura, that spark of enti ty, wfiicfa
s with thiTsolar light', the universal soul

returns a

of the world, and only source of life, whether vegetable,
animal, or intellectual ; which differ only according to the
grossness or fineness of the vehicles, and the different
textures of the natural alembics, or, in other words, the
organised bodies where the above-mentioned volatile
essence inhabits and is elaborated, where it acts and is
acted upon. This chemical system lets you at once into
the nature of the soul, and accounts for all its phenomena-
In that compound which is called man, the soul or essential
oil is what commonly goes by the name of animal spirit;
for, you must know it is a point agreed by chemists, thil

' So afterwards in SiVts, especially trine, that aolar-fire, or light, iMJ

sect. B, 38, 43, 44-47, 59-61. be regarded as ' the animal spiril "

' Cf, Siris, e.g. sect. 43, 15a, this visible world," diffused throBgli

i6a, 193, 194 ; also Firs/ Letter to the universe, and the divine '"■

T— F— an the Virtues of Tar- stnimcntal cause of all changK'"

Water, sect. 16, 17. He there un- external nature,
folds and adopts the

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

273

Spirits are nothing but the more subtle oils. Now, in
proportion as the e ssential oil of man i.s n inre tll^h^^f^ than
that of other creatuF^, the volatile salt that impitgnates it
is more at liberty to act ; which accounts for thoss specific
properties and actions of human-kind, which disinguish
them above other creatures. Hence you may learn why,
among the wise ancients', salt was another name for wit,
and in our times a dull man is said to be insipid or insulse.
Aromatic oils, maturated by great length of time, turn to
salts : this shews why human-kind grow wiser by age.
And what I have said of the twofold death or dissolution,
first of the compound, hy sep arating the soul from t he
organicaLbody, and second I y'ofthe soul itself, by -dividing
the volatile salt ffom~ t he oil^ i Oiistratps and explains that
notfon of certain ancient philosophers— that, as the man
was a cornpouiuLaLsoul and body, so theTBcntffiaaxom-
pounded of th e min d or intellect, and its setriereal vehicle ;
and that the separation of soul and body, or death of the
man, is, after a long tract of time, succeeded by a second
death of the soul itself, to wit, the separation or deliverance
of the intellect from its vehicle, and reunion with the sun ^
Euph. O Lysicles ! your ingenious friend has opened
a new scene, and explained the most obscure and difficult
points in the clearest and easiest manner.

Lys. I must own this account of things struck my fancy.
i am no great lover of creeds or systems ; but when
a notion is reasonable and grounded on experience I know
how to value it.

Cri. In good earnest, Lysicles, do you believe this
account to be true ?

Lys. Why then in good earnest I do not know whether
I do or no. But I can assure you the ingenious artist
himself has not the least doubt about it. And to believe an
artist in his art is a just maxim and a short way to science.
Cri. But what relation hath the soul of man to chemic
art? The same reason that bids me trust a skilful artist
in his art inclines me to suspect him out of his art. Men

' Berkeley's .^.......^w — ~.

cient learning grew na his life ad-
vanced. It appears more in Siria.

' Siris passim, with ils doctrine
of an elementary fire medium, or

animal spiril of the univers

may be compared with Ihi;
forecast of thi

Alriphro,

274 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE t>HILOSOPHER

are too apt to reduce unknown things to the standan/
of what they know, an3 bring a prejudice or tincture from
things they have been conversant in, to judge thereby of
things in which they have not been conversant. I have
known a fiddler gravely teach that the soul was harmony;
a geometrician very positive that the soul must be extended;
and a physician, who, having pickled half a dozen embryos,
and dissected as many rats and frogs, grew conceited, and
affirmed there was no soul at all, and that it was a vulgar
error. ^

Lys, My notions sit easy. I shall not engage in peoi^tic
disputes about them. They who do not like them may
leave them.

Euph, This, I suppose, is said much like a gentleman.

15. But pray, Lysicles, tell me whether the clergy come
within that general rule of yours, that an artist may be
trusted in his art ?

Lys, By no means.

Euph, Why so ?

Lys, Because I take myself to know as much of those
matters as they do.

Euph, But you allow that, in any other profession, one
who had spent much time and pains may attain more
knowledge th an a man oL egual or better parts w ho never

madej L hls^rticular hnsige ss.

ZTyi. Fdo.

Euph, And nevertheless in things religious and Divine
you think all men equally knowing.

Lys, I do not say all men. But I think all men of
sense competent judges.

Euph. What ! are the Divine attributes and dispensa-
tions to mankind, the true end and happiness of rational
creatures, with the means of improving and perfecting
their beings, more easy and obvious points than those
which make the subject of every common professioil?

Lys, • Perhaps not : but one thing I know, some things
are so manifestly absurd that no authority shall mak g^Jflfr-
give into them. I'or instance, it all mankind "^lould
"pretefid to persuade me that the Son of God was born
upon earth in a poor family, was spit upon, buffeted, and
crucified, lived like a beggar, and died like a thief, I should

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 275

never believe one syllable of it. Common sense shews
every one what figure it would be decent for an earthly
prince or ambassador to make ; and the Son of God, upon
an embassy from heaven, must needs have made an
appearance beyond all others of great eclat, and in all
respects the very reverse of that which Jesus Christ is
reported to have made, even by his own historians.

Ktiph. O Lysicles I though I had ever so much mind to
approve and applaud your ingenious reasoning, yet I dare
not assent to this, for fear of Crito.

JLys. Why so ?

Euph. Because he observed just now, that men judge of
things they do not know, by prejudices from things they
do know. And I fear he would object that you, who have
been conversant in the grand monde, having your head
filled with a notion of attendants and equipage and liveries,
the familiar badges of human grandeur, are less able to
judge of that which is truly Divine ; and that one who had
seen less, and thought more, would be apt to imagine
a pompous parade of worldly greatness not the most
becoming the author of a spiritual religion, that was
designed to wean men from the world, and raise them
above it,-

Cri. Do you think, Lysicles, if a man should make his
entrance into London in a rich suit of clothes, with
a hundred gilt coaches, and a thousand laced footmen;
that this would be a more Divine appearance, and have
more of true grandeur in it, than if he had power with
a word to heal all manher of diseases, to raise the dead to
life, and still the raging of the winds and the sea?

Lys. Without all doubt it must be very agreeable to
common sense to suppose, that he could restore others
to life who could not save his own. You tell us, indeed,
that he rose again from the dead ; but what occasion was
there for him to die, the just for the unjust, tlie Son of
God for wicked men ? And why in that individual place ?
Why at that very time above all others ? Why did he not
make his appearance earlier, and preach in all parts of the
world, that the benefit might have been more extensive
['and equal] ? Account for all these points, and reconcile

276 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

them, if you can, to the common notions and plain sense of
mankind.

Cri. And what if those, as well as many other points,
should lie out of the road that we are acquainted wilh;
must we therefore explode them, and make it a rule to
condemn every proceeding as senseless that doth not
square with the vulgar sense of man? ['That, indeed,
which evidently contradicts sense and reason you liave
a right to disbelieve. And when you are unjustly treated
you have the same right to complain. But 1 think you should
distinguish between matter of debt and matter of favour.
Thus much is observed in all intercourse between man
and man ; wherein acts of mere benevolence are never
insisted on, or examined and measured with the same
accurate line as matters of justice. Who but a minute
philosopher would, upon a gratuitous distribution of
favours, inquire, why at this time, and not before? why
to these persons, and not to others ? Various are the
natural abilities and opportunities of human-kind. How
wide a diflerence is there in respect of the law of nature
between one of our stupid ploughmen and a minute
philosopher! between a Laplander and an AthenianI
That conduct, therefore, which seems to you partial and
unequal may be found as well in the dispensation of
natural religion as of revealed. And, if so, why it should
be made an objection against the one more than the
other, I leave you to account ".] 1/ the pr ecep ts and
certain primary tenets of religion appear m "the^eye of
reason good and useful ; and "if the^-a re also foUHd tiil g
so by therr'effects ; ~wc may,~T6f' the "sake o! them, admit
certain other points or doctrines recomineniliJd with ttttni
to have a good tendency, to be right and true, althangh we
cannot discern their goodness or truth by th e mere lifiTit of
human reason, which may well be supposed an insiiffi'
cient judge of the proceedings, counsels, and designs of
Providence ; and this sufficeth to make our conviction
reasonable.

16. It is an allowed point that no man can judgeof this

I Added in the second edition. lion, wlicn it is carried back W

' So Bishop Bulier in ius Analogy, ' natural religion' ilscll", and equUj
who fails to deal wilh the objcc- directed against it.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 277

or that part of a machine taken by itself, withoiit knowing
t he whole, th e mut ual relation or dependence of its parts.
andjhe end for which It was madeL And, as thi ^ i S a
pomt acknowledged in corporeal and natural things, ought
we not, by a parity of reason, to suspend our judgment
of a single unaccountable part of the Divine economy, till
we are more fully acquainted with the moral system, or
world of spirits, and are let into the designs of God's
Providence, and have an extensive view of His dispensa-
tions, past, present, and future ? Alas ! Lysicles, what do
you know even of yourself, whence you come, what you
are, or whither you are going? To me it seems that a
minute philosopher is like a conceited spectator, who
never looked behind the scenes, and yet would judge of
the machinery ; who, from a transient glimpse of a part
only of some one scene, would take upon him to censure
the plot of a play ^

Lys, As to the plot I will not say ; but in half a scene
a man may judge of an absurd actor. With what colour
or pretext can you justify the vindictive, froward, whim-
sical behaviour of some inspired teachers or prophets ' ?
Particulars that serve neither for profit nor pleasure I make
a shift to forget; but in general the truth of this charge
I do very well remember.

Cri. You need be at no pains to prove a point I shall
neither justify nor deny. \^ I would only beg leave to
observe that it ^ems a sure si^ of sincerity in the sacred
writers , that tHey sh"buld beTso'Tar "irom pialliating the
defects as to publish even the criminal and absurd actions
of those very persons whom they relate to have been
inspired.] That there have been human passions, infirmities,
and defects, in persons inspired by God, I freely own ;
nay, that very wicked men have been inspired, as Balaam
for instance and Caiaphas, cannot be denied. But what
will you infer from thence ? Can you prove it impossible
that a weak or sinful man should become an instrument
of the Spirit of God, for conveying His purpose to other

* So in Butler's Analogy, Pt. I. Alciphron appeared four years be-

ch. 7. fore the Analogy,

^ This ofCrito may again be com- ^ So Tindal.

pared with the negative argument * Introduced in the third edition,
in Butler's Analogy ^ Pt. I, ch. 7.

278 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

sinners, or that Divine light may not, as well as the light of
the sun, shine on a foul vessel without polluting its rays?

Lys. To make short work, the right way would be lo
put out our eyes, and not judge at all ',

Cri. I do not say so ; but 1 think it would be right,
if some sanguine persons upon certain points suspected
their own judgment.

Ak. But the very things said to be inspired, taken by
themselves and in their own nature, are sometimes so
wrong, to say no worse, that a man may pronounce them
not to be Divine at first sight ; without troubling his head
about the system of Providence or connexion of events—
as one may say that grass is green without knowing or
considering how it grows, what uses it is subservient to,
or how it is connected with the mundane system. Thus,
for instance, the spoiling of the Egyptians, and the extirpa-
tion of the Canaanites, every one at first glance sees to be
cruel and unjust, and may therefore, without deliberating,
pronounce them unworthy of God ',

Cri. But, Alciphron. to judge rightly of these things, may
it not be proper to consider how long the Israelites had
wrought under those severe task-masters of Egypt, what
injuries and hardahipg t|ipy h"*! gngtainpfl fmiTl rhft",'"'""
crimes and abominations the CanaanXtes had been guilty
of, what right God" hath to dispose_pr the tili ngs o i_lhi^
world, to punish delinquentsj'and to appoint both the
manner and the instruments of His justice? Man, who
has not such right over his fellow- creatures, who is himself
a feliow-sinner with them, who is liable to error as well as
passion, whose views are imperfect, who is governed more
by prejudice than the truth of things, may not improbably
deceive himself, when he sets up for a jud^e of the pro-
Jeedinps of the holy. omniscierTt, impassive Ureator and
^Governor oT all things. '

17. Ale. Believe me, Crito, men are never so industrious
to deceive themselves, as when they engage to defend

' He thai takes away reason,
make way for [christian] rcve-
an, puis out the light of both ;
I does iniKihwhBt the same ss if

would persuade a man lo pnt

out his eyes the better to reteiv=
the remote light of an invisible sUr
by a telescope,'— Locke, Essay. Bli-
IV. ch, .g. § 4.

' Tindal argties thus.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 279

their prejudices. You would fain reason us out of all use
of our reason. Can anything be more irrational? To
forbid u s to reason on the Divine Hispp ngafi'nna_ig-jh^

si toPpae they will not bear the test of reason ; or, in other
words, that (jiod acts without reason, which 7)t!ght not to
be admitted, no, not in any single instance. For if in one,
why not in another? Whoever, therefore, allows a Go(J
must allow that He always acts reasonably. I will not
therefore attribute to Him actions and proceedings that are
unreasonable. He hath given me reason to judge witha l ;
and I will judge by that un erring li ght^ lightp fl from thf^
lyersal inrnp ^^ "^ *'"'''* ■
rt. O Alciphron ! as I frankly own the common remark
to be true, that when a man is against reason, it is a shrewd
sign reason is against him ; so I should never go about to
dissuade any one, much less one who so well knew the
value of it, from using that noble talent. On the contrary,
upon all subjects of moment, in my opinion, a man ought
to use his reason : but then, whether it may not be reason-
able to use it with some deference to superior reason, it
will not perhaps be amiss to consider. [* He who hath an
exact view of the measure, and of the thing to be measured,
if he applies the one to the other, may, I grant, measure

exactly. Rut hfi ^^^ nnHprtakfct ^ri m^gcm-f^^ wif-hnnf ^

JiIl£lW1T^g ^itVifr^ ran he no pi ore^ exact than he is mod est.
It may not, nevertheless, be impossible to find a man who,
having neither an abstract idea of moral fitness, nor an
adequate idea of the Divine economy, shall yet pretend to
measure the one by the other.]

Ale. It must surely derogate from the wisdom of God,
to suppose His conduct cannot bear being inspected, not
even by the twilight of human reason.

Euph. You allow, then, God to be wise ?

Ale. I do.

Euph. What! infinitely wise ?

Ale. Even infinitely.

Euph. His wisdom, then, far exceeds that of man ?

Ale. Vastly. .

Euph. Probably more than the wisdom of man that of
a child ?

Ale. Without all question.

' Added in the second edition^

28o ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph, What think you, Alciphron, must not the conduct
of a parent seem very unaccountable to a child, when its
inclinations are thwarted, when it is put to learn the letters,
when it is obliged to swallow bitter physic, to part with
what it likes, and to suffer and do, and see, many things
done contrary to its own judgment, however reasonable or
agreeable to that of others ?
Ale, This I grant.

Euph, Will it not therefore follow from hence, by a
parity of reason, that the little child, mafij when it takes
upon it to judge of the schemes of parental Providence;
and, a thing of yesterday, to criticise the economy of the
Ancient of Days ; will it not follow, I say, that such a
judge, of such matters, must be apt to make v ery erroneo us
judgments ? este eming tT ^se^ things in thehiseives unac-
counfaBTe,'" which TTe cannot account lor, and concluding
of soriie certain points, from an appearance of arbitrary
carriage towards him, which is suited to his ipfanry a nd
ignorance, that they are in themselves ca pricious or absu r d.
and carinoi proceed from a ^yise, fust, a rid henev nipnt (lofL
I This single consideration, if duly attended to, would,
I verily think, put an end to many conc eited reason ings
against revealed religion ^ '

^g^ ^ Ale, Yqi l would have us then c o nclude, that things^ to
^\ our wisdom unaccountable, may never theless proceed fr om
an abyss of wisd om "which ourlme "cannot iathom^; and
that prospects viewed but in part, and by the broken,
tinged light of our intellects, though to us they may seem
disproportionate and monstrous, may nevertheless appear
quite otherwise to another eye, and in a different situation :
in a word, that as human wisdom is but childish folly, in
respect of the Divine, so the wisdom of God may some-
times seem foolishness to man.

i8. Euph, I would not have you make these conclusions,
unless in reason you ought to make them : but, if they are
reasonable, why should you not make them ?

^ * Revealed religion*, i.e. *re- ' So Hume : ^ Our line is too short

vealed ' in the narrower sense of to fathom such immense abysses.'

the revelation, i. e. confined to See his Inquiry concerning Human

Christianity. Understanding , sect. 7, passim.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 28t

Ale. Some things may seem reasonable at one time and
not at another: and I take this very apology you make,
for credulity and superstition, to be one of those things.
When I view it in its principles, it seems naturally to
follow from just concessions ; but, when I consider its con-
sequences, I cannot agree to it. A man had as good
aboicate his nature as disclaim the use of reason.
A Qoctrine is y nnrrnnntnhlr ] — t h e refore — it must — be

Eupn. Credulity and supe rstition are qualities so d is-
agreeable and degrading to Human nat ure, so s urely an
fettect ot weakness/anH so frpg iipntly a raiisp of wickedness,
that T Rh niild he very mnrh siirp n5=;ed tO fin d a j USt course
of reasonin g lead to them . I can never think that reason
is a blind guide to folly, or that there is any connexion
between truth and falsehood ; no more than I can think
a thing's being unaccountable a proof that it is Divine.
Though, at the same time, I cannot help acknowledging
it follows from your own avowed principles, that a thing's
being unaccountable, or incomprehensible to our reason,
is no sure argument to conclude it is not Divine ; especially
when there are collateral proofs of its being so. A child
is influenced by the many sensible effects it hath felt of
paternal love and care and superior wisdom, to believe
and do several things with an implicit faith and obedience :
and if we, in the same manner, from the truth and reason-
a bleness which w e plainly see jn_so_. maiiy^ j)mjitOiSffiin
our cognizance, and the advantages which we experience
fro m the seed of the gospel s own In "good groun d, w ere
di^posf^ ^^ ^" impiiVi> Kp]i fif of certaHptTierp^nTsTr ^^
tn fg(;hemec; wp r^n jw know^ or su bjects to whic h our
taleptf} arr p^^'^T^p? disproportipiiaEex i am tempted" ^o
tHink it might become our duty, without dishonouring our
reason ; which is never so much dishonoured as when it
is foiled, and never in more danger of being foiled than
by judging where it hath neither means nor right to
judge.

Lys, I would give a good deal to see that ingenious
gamester Glaucus have the handling of Euphranor one
night at our club. I own he is a peg too high for me in
some of his notions. But then he is admirable at vindi-
cating human reason against the impositions of priestcraft.

282 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

19. Ale. He would undertake to make it as clear
as daylight, that there was nothing worth a straw in
Christianity, but what every one knew, or might know,
as well without as with it, before as since Jesus
Christ.

Crt, That great man, it seems, teacheth, that common
sense alone is the pole-star by which mankind ought to
steer ; and that what is called revelation must be ridiculous,
because it is unnecessary and useless, the natural talents
of every man being sufficient to make him happy, good,
and wise, without any further correspondence from heaven
either for light or aid.

Euph, I have already acknowledged how sensible I am,
that my situation in this obscure comer of the country
deprives me of many advantages, to be had from the con-
versation of ingenious men in town. To make myself
some amends, I am obliged to converse with the dead and
my own thoughts, which last I know are of little weight
against the authority of Glaucus, or such-like great men
in the minute philosophy*. But what shall we say to
Socrates, for he too was of an opinion very different from
that ascribed to Glaucus * ?

Ale, For the present we need not insist on authorities,
ancient or modern, or inquire which was the greater man,
Socrates or Glaucus. Though, methinks, for so much as
authority can signify, the present times, gray and hoary
with age and experience, have a manifest advantage over
those that are falsely called aneienP. But, not to dwell on
authorities, I tell you in plain English, Euphranor, we do
not want your revelations ; and that for this plain reason,

* Collins, for instance, and Tin-
dal, in Christianity as Old as the
Creation, published in 1730, when
Berkeley was in his * obscure corner '
at Rhode Island. The latter part of
Butler's Analogy was apparently
directed against Tindal.

^ For Socrates, see, among other
places, the closing passages of the
Meno, and in the Syntposiunt,

* A maxim reiterated by Bacon :
* The old age of the world is to be
accounted the true antiquity; and
this belongs to our own age, not to

that earlier age in which the so-
called antients lived ; which though
in relation to us it was the elder,
yet as regards the world itself it
was the younger. AniL irulyas we
look_fpjL_gceateE_Jtiifl55e3gc^and
judgment in the old than in th e

young, K^raiigf> nf^ frhf»ir grpateT-
pyperipnrPj sn frnm nnr age more
might be expected thap frfiJOaDcient
times, seeing that the world is now
grown older, and become stored
with a larger and richer experience.
{Novum Organutn, Bk. I. 84.)

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 283

those that are clear everybody knew before, and those that
are obscure nobody is the better for.

Euph, [*As it is impossible that a man should believe
the practical principles of the Christian religion, and not be
the better for them ; so, it is evident that those principles
may be much more easily taught as points of faith ^ than
demonstrated or discovered as points of science. This I
call evident, because it is a plain fact. Sinc ^we daily see
that ma ny are inst ructed- in matters of faith: that few
are ta ught by scien tific demon^tratiooi. and^tnat there are
stiir fewer who can discover truth for themselves. Did
minute philosophers but reflect how rarely men are swayed
or governed by mere ratiocination, and how often by faith,
in the natural or civil concerns of the world ! how little
they know, and how much they believe ! How uncommon
is it to meet with a man who argues justly, who is in truth
a master of reason, or walks by that rule! How much
better (as the world goes) men are qualified to judge of
facts than of reasonings, to receive, truth upon testimony
than to deduce it from principles! Ho w general a s pirit
of tnistojij^lianceruns through the whole system of life
anCSpEleft-l ^SH3^"Th5" "5iamTC"ttffie "how setdom the dry
light of unprejudiced nature is followed or to be found !
I say, did our thinking men but bethink themselves of
these things, they would perhaps find it difficult to assign
a good reason why faith, which hath so great a share in
everything else, should yet have none in religion. But
to come more closely to your point.] Whether it was pos-
sible for mankind to have known all parts of the Christian
religion, besides mysteries and positive institutions, is not
the question between us; and that they actually did not
know them is too plain to be denied. This, perhaps, was
for want of making a due use of reason. But, as to the
usefulness of revelation, it seems much the same thing
whether they could not know, or would not be at the pains
tcTSoQWy- the doctrines, revealed. And, as for those doc-
trines which were too obscure to penetrate, or too sublime

* The sentences within brackets seems here to be taken in its popu-

were introduced in the second lar meaning ; not as the ultimate

edition. venture on which applied reason

^ ' taught as points of faith*, i.e. in man finally rests, for man lacks

on the authority oi persons. * Faith * omniscience.

384 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

to reach, by natural reason ; how far mankind may be the
better for them is more, I had almost said, than even yoa
or Glaucus can tell.

20. Ah. But, whatever may be pretended as to obscure
doctrines and dispensations, all this hath nothing to do
with prophecies : which, being altogether relative to man-
kind, and the events of this world, to which our faculties
are surely well enough proportioned, one might expect
should be very clear, and such as might inform instead
of puzzling us.

Eupli. And yet it must be allowed that, as some pro-
phecies are clear, there are others very obscure ; but, lefl
to myself, I doubt I should never have inferred from
thence that they were not Divine. In my own way of
thinking, I should have been apt to conclude that the
prophecies we uridcrstahd ai-"e aT^ooTTbr inspiration ; but
that those we do not understand are no proof against it
Inasmuch as for the latter our ignorance, or the reserve of
the Holy Spirit may account; but for the other nothing,
for aught that 1 see, can account but inspiration.

Ale. Now I know several sagacious men who conclude
this very differently from you, to wit, that the one sort of
prophecies is nonsense, and the other contrived after the
events'. Behold the difference between a man of free
thought and one of narrow principles I

Euph. It seems then they reject the Revelations because
they are obscure, and Daniel's prophecies because they
are clear.

Ale. Either way a man of sense sees cause to suspect
there has been foul play,

Euph. Your men of sense are, it seems, hard to please.

Ale. Our philosophers are men of piercing eyes,

Euph. I suppose such men never make transient judg-
ments from transient views, but always establish fixed
conclusions upon a thorough inspection of things. For
my own part, I dare not engage with a man who has
examined those points so nicely as it may be presumed

• So Collins, in his sceptical Dis- Lileral Prophecy considertd {i^si).

course oh fht Grounds and Reasons In tlie second of these, ' (he Booli

0/ the Chrislian RiHgion ^1724), of Daniel' is the object ot crili-

and especially in his Sche»,e of cisra.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 285

you have done; but I could name some eminent writers
of our own, now living, whose books on the subject
of prophecy have given great satisfaction to gentlemen
who pass for men of sense and learning here in the
country ',

A/c. You must know, Euphranor, I am not at leisure to
peruse the learned writings of divines, on a subject which
a man may see through with half an eye. To me it is
sufficient, that the point itself is odd, and out of the road
of nature. For the rest, I leave them to dispute and settle
among themselves, where to fix the precise time when the
sceptre departed from Judah ; or whether in Daniel's
prophecy of the Messiah we should compute by the
Chaldean or the Julian year. My only conclusion con-
cerning all such matters is, that I will never trouble myself
about them'^

Euph. To an extraordinary genius, who sees things with
half an eye, I know not what to say. But for the rest of
mankind, one would think it vet^ rash in them to conclude,
without much and exact inquiry, on the unsafe side of
a question which concerns their chief interest.

jilc. Mark it well : a true genius in pursuit of truth
makes swift advances on the wings of general maxims,
while little minds creep and grovel amidst mean particu-
larities. I lay it down for a certain truth, that by the
fallacious arts of logic and criticism, straining and forcing,
palliating, patching, and distinguishing, a man may justify
or make out anything ; and this remark, with one or two
about prejudice, saves me a world of trouble.

Euph. You, Alciphron, who soar sublime on strong and
free opinions, vouchsafe to lend a helping hand to those
whom you behold entangled in the birdlime of prejudice.
For my part, I find it^ very possible to suppose prophecy

■ Bishop Chandler's Deft.
ChristiaHity, fin"' "" Prophecies oj
Iht Old Teslantent (1735), and his
VindicalioH of Iht Defaice (1738) ;
Bishop Sherlock on the Use and
liilcHl of Prophtcy (1-737) ; with
many uthcrs. Shurlock was one
of Berkeley's friends and admirers,
and is said to have recommended
^/ti/ZinJB toQueeo Caroline, when

pteron'Miraclea' — includingof
rae superhuman predictions of

re events, lalth in which, he
lies, 'subverts the principles of
lan understanding, and gives

a determination to bcHeve what
lost contrary to custom and es-

386 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

may be Divint:j_aUbQU^ there _shQ.uld_be_ some o bscurity
at this"3istance,_with respect to dates of timeor_Mnds of
jiears. You yourself own revelation ' possiEle: and,
allowing this, I can very easily conceive it may be odd,
and out of the road of nature. I can, without amazement,
meet in Holy Scripture divers prophecies, whereof I do
not see the completion, divers texts I do not understand,
divers mysteries above my comprehension, and ways of
God to me unaccountable. Why may not some prophecies
relate to parts of history I am not well enough acquainted
with, or to events not yet come to pass ? It seems to me
that prophecies unfathomed by the hearer, or even the
speaker himself, have been afterward verified and under-
stood in the event ; and it is one of my maxims, that, what
haik been may be. Though I rub mine eyes, and do
my utmost to extricate myself from prejudice, yet it still
seems very possible to mc that, what I do not, a more acute,
more attentive, or more learned man, may understand. At
least thus much is plain : the difficulty of some poin ts
or passage s doth n ot_binder the clearness pr pthersL ^d
those-paf ts' ol Scripture_whiclij!K!^ cannot inteEcrel_Bejre
not bound to Vnow tlie sense _ oiL What evil or what
inconvenience, if we cannot comprehend what we are not
obliged to comprehend, or if we cannot account for those
things which it doth not belong to us to account fori
Scriptures not understood, at one time, or by one person,
may be understood at another time, or by other persons.
May we not perceive, by retrospect on what is past, a
certain progress from darker to lighter, in the series of the
Divine economy towards man ? And may not future
events clear up such points as at present exercise the faith
of behevers ? Now, 1 cannot help thinking (such is the
force either of truth or prejudice) that in all this there is
nothing strained or forced, or which is not reasonable or
natural to suppose.

21. Ale. Well, Euphranor, 1 will lend you a helping
hand, since you desire it, but think fit to alter my nielJiod,
For, you must know, the main points of Christian belief

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 287

have been infused so early, and incuScated so often by
nurses, pedagogues, and priests, that, be the proofs eVer so
plain, it is a hard matter to convince a mind thus tincWed
and stained, by arguing against revealed religion from its
internal characters. 1 shall therefore set myself to con-
sider things in another light, and examine j[our religion by
certain external characters or circumstantials, comparing
the system of reveJajiuiLwith collateral accounts of .ancient
heathen writers, and shewing how ill it consists with them.
Know then that, the CHrlstlan revelation supposing the
Jewish, it follows that, if the Jewish be destroyed, the
Christian must of course fail to the ground. Now, to
make short work, 1 shall attack this Jewish revelation in
its head. Tell me, are we not obliged, if wc believe the
Mosaic account of things, to hold the world was created
not quite six thousand years ago?

Euph. I grant wc are '.

Ale. What will you say now, if other ancient records
carry up the history of the world many thousand years
beyond this period ? What if the Egyptians and Chinese
have accounts extending to thirty or forty thousand years ?
What if the former of these nations have observed twelve
hundred eclipses, during the space of forty-eight thousand
years, before the time of Alexander the Great? What if
the Chinese have also many observations antecedent to the
Jewish account of the creation? What if the Chaldeans
had been observing the stars for above four hundred
thousand years ? And what shall we say if we have
successions of kings and their reigns, marked for several
thousand years before the beginning of the world, assigned
by Moses? Shall we reject the accounts and records of
all other nations, the most famous, ancient, and learned in
the world, and preserve a blind reverence for the legislator
of the Jews?

Euph, And pray, if they deserve to be rejected, why
should we not reject Ihem ? What if those monstrous
chronologies contain nothing but names without actions,
and nianiiest fables? What if those pretended observations

ceptions since
and historical

ion in cosmical con- here and elsewliere.
tile days of Aki- in Christianity depi
I in biblical exegesis the accidents

a88 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

of Egyptians and Chaldeans were unknown or unregarded
by ancient astronomers ? What if the Jesuits have shewn
the inconsistency of the like Chinese pretensions with the
truth of the Ephemerides? What if the most ancient
Chinese observations allowed to be authentic are those of
two fixed stars, one in the winter solstice, the other in the
vernal equinox, in the reign of their king Yao, which was
since the flood ' ?

Ale. You must give me leave to observe, the Romish
missionaries are of small credit in this point.

Etiph. But what knowledge have we, or can we have, of
those Chinese affairs, but by their means ? The same
persons that tell us of these accounts refute them : if we
reject their authority in one case, what right have we to
build upon it in another ?

Ak. When I consider that the Chinese have annals of
more than forty thousand years, and that they are a
learned, ingenious, and acute people, very curious, and
addicted to arts and sciences, I profess I cannot help
paying some regard to their accounts of time'.

Euph. Whatever advantage their situation and polidcal
maxims may have given them, it doth not appear they are
so learned or so acute in point of science as the Europeans.
The general character of the Chinese, if we may believe
Trigaltius and other writers, is, that they are men of
a trifling and credulous curiosity, addicted to search after
the philosopher's stone, and a medicine to make men
immortal, to astrology, foilune-teUing, and presages of all
kinds. Their ignorance in nature and mathematics is
evident, from the great hand the Jesuits make of that kind
of knowledge among them. But what shall we think of
those extraordinary annals, if the very Chinese themselves
give no credit to them for more than three thousand years
before Jesus Christ? if they do not pretend to have begun
to write history above four thousand years ago? and if the
oldest books they have now extant, in an intelligible

' [Bianchini, Hisior. Univfrs. cap.

appeared at Ro

lie in ,697. Bi^

17.1 — Author. This learned

chinidiedini,

39.

Italian, bom in 1663, formed the

' Tindal and

tlier-minutepliili^

plan of a Unwersal History, founded

sophers'madc

nuchoftheChijrae

on materials supplied in part by

and Conludus,

Jesuit missionaries. The first part

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 289

character, are not above two thousand years old ? One
would think a man of your sagacity, so apt to suspect
everything out of the common road of nature, should not,
without the clearest proof, admit those annals for authentic,
which record such strange things as the sun's not setting
for ten days, and gold raining three days together. Tell
me, Alciphron, can you really believe these things without
inquiring by what means the tradition was preserved,
through what hands it passed, or what reception it met
with, or who first committed it to writing?

Ale. To omit the Chinese and their story, it will serve
my purpose as well to build on the authority of Manetho,
that learned Egyptian priest, who had such opportunities
of searching into the most ancient accounts of time, and
copying into his dynasties the most venerable and authentic
records inscribed on the pillars of Hermes.

Euph. Pray, Alciphron, where were those chronological
pillars to be seen ?

Ale. In the Seriadical land.

Euph. And where is that country ?

Ale. I don't know.

Euph. How were those records preserved for so many
ages down to the time of this Hermes, who is said to have
been the first inventor of letters ?

Ale. I do not know.

Euph. Did any other writers, before or since Manetho,
pretend to have seen, or transcribed, or known anything
about these pillars ?

Ale. Not that I know.

Euph. Or about the place where they are said to have
been?

Ale. If they did, it is more than I know.

Euph. Do the Greek authors that went into Egypt, and
consulted the Egyptian priests, agree with these accounts
of Manetho ?

Ale. Suppose they do not.

Euph. Doth Diodorus, who lived since Manetho, follow,
cite, or so much as mention this same Manetho ?

Ale. What will you infer from all this ?

Euph. If I did not know you and your principles, and
how vigilantly you guard against imposture, I should infer
that you were a very credulous man. For, what can we

BERKELEY : FRASER. II. U

290 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

call it but credulity to believe most incredible things on

most slender authority, such as fr^gtn^nfg nf grw^hgrnrp

v^iy^tf^r^ di sagreeing- w ith all other hi storians , supporte31)y
an obscure authority of HermesL-pUlars, for which you
must take his word, and which contain things so im-
probable as successions of gods and demi-gods, for many
thousand years, Vulcan alone having reigned nine thou-
sand? There is little in these venerable dynasties of
Manetho besides names and numbers; and yet in that
little we meet with very strange things, that would be
thought romantic in another writer : for instance, the Nile
overflowing with honey, the moon grown bigger, a speak-
ing lamb, seventy kings who reigned as many days one
after another, a king a day \ If you are known, Alciphron,
to give credit to these things, I fear you will lose the
honour of being thought incredulous.

Ale, And yet these ridiculous fragments, as you would
represent them, have been thought worth the pains and
lucubrations of very learned men. How can you account
for the work that the great Joseph Scaliger and Sir John
Marsham ^ make about them ?

Euph. I do not pretend to account for it. To see
Scaliger add another Julian period to make room for such
things as Manetho's dynasties, and Sir John Marsham
take so much learned pains to piece, patch, and mend
those obscure fragments, to range them in synchronisms,
and try to adjust them with sacred chronology, or make
them consistent with themselves and other accounts, is
to me very strange and unaccountable. Why they, or
Eusebius, or yourself, or any other learned man, should
imagine those things deserve any regard I leave you to
explain '.

22. Ale, After all, it is not easy to conceive what should
move, not only Manetho, but also other Egyptian priests,
long before his time, to set up such great pretences to

' [Seal. Can. Isag, Lib. II.] — BOckh, Bunsen, Von Pessl, and

Author. others have tended to restore the

^ Sir John Marsham, an Egyptian credit of Manetho, whose annals,

archaeologist, and eminent chrono- like those of Herodotus, are con*

logist of the seventeenth century. firmed by modern archseology.

/* The most recent researches of

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 291

antiquity, all which, however differing from one another,
agree in this, that they overthrow the Mosaic history.
How can this be accounted for without some real founda-
tion ? W hat po int of pl easure, or profit, or p ower, could
s et men on forgi ng successions of ancient names a nd
pe riods of time for a ges before the world began?

TLuph, Pray, AlciphroriTlFthere'aiTyfhmg so strange or
singular in this vain humour of extending the antiquity of
nations beyond the truth ? Hath it not been observed in
most parts of the world ? Doth it not even in our own
times shew itself, especially among those dependent and
subdued people who have little else to boast of? To pass
over others of our fellow-subjects who, in proportion as
they are below their neighbours in wealth and power, lay
claim to a more remote antiquity ; are not the pretensions
of Irishmen in this way known to be very great ? If I may
trust my memory, O'Flaherty, in his Ogygia, mentions
some transactions in Ireland before the flood. The same
humour, and from the same cause, appears to have pre-
vailed in Sicily, a country for some centuries past subject
to the dominion of foreigners ; during which time the
Sicilians have published divers fabulous accounts, con-
cerning the original and antiquity of their cities, wherein
they vie with each other. It is pretended to be proved by
ancient inscriptions, whose existence or authority seems
on a level with that of Hermes' pillars, that Palermo was
founded in the days of the patriarch Isaac by a colony of
Hebrews, Phoenicians, and Syrians ; and that a grandson
of Esau had been governor of a tower subsisting within
these two hundred years in that city \ The antiquity of
Messina hath been carried still higher, by some who would
have us think it was enlarged by Nimrod^ The like
pretensions are made by Catania, and other towns of that
island, who have found authors of as good credit as
Manetho to support them. Now, I should be glad to
know why the Egyptians, a subdued people, may not pro-

* [Fazelli, Hist, SicuU Decad. I. ferences. Sicily so attracted him

Lib. VIII.] — Author. The History that he prepared materials for a

of Sicily by Tomaso Fazelli, written natural history of the island, which,

in the fifteenth century, was es- with a journal of his tour there,

teemed by contemporary writers. were lost on the passage to Naples.

Berkeley's associations with Italy ^ \^t\n2i^ Notizie Istoriche di MeS'

and its islands appear in these re- sina.l — Author.

U 2

292 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

bably be supposed to have invented fabulous accounts
from the same motive, and like others valued themselves
on extravagant pretensions to antiquity, when in all other
respects they were so much inferior to their masters?
That people had been successively conquered by Ethio-
pians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, and Grecians,
before it appears that those wonderful dynasties of Manetho
and the pillars of Hermes were ever heard of; as they
had been by the two first of those nations before the time
of Solon himself, the earliest Greek that is known to have
consulted the priests of Egypt ; whose accounts were so
extravagant that even the Greek historians, though un-
acquainted with Holy Scripture, were far from giving
an entire credit to them. Herodotus, making a report
upon their authority, saith, those to whom such things
seem credible may make the best of them, for himself
declaring that it was his purpose to write what he heard \
And both he and Diodorus do, on divers occasions, shew
the same diffidence in the narratives of those Egyptian
priests. And Vs we observed of the Egyptians, it is no
less certain that the Phoenicians, Assyrians, and Chaldeans
were each a conquered and reduced people, before the
rest of the world appear to have heard anything of their
pretensions to so remote antiquity.

Cru But what occasion is there to be at any pains to
account for the humour of fabulous writers? Is it not
sufficient to see that they relate absurdities ; that they are
unsupported by any foreign evidence; that they do not
appear to have been in credit, even among their own
countrymen ; and that they are inconsistent one with
another ? That men should have the vanity to impose on
the world by false accounts is nothing strange : it is much
more"so~Ehat,"^ef what hath been done towards un-
deceiving the world by so many learned critics, there should
be men found capable of being abused by those paltry
scraps of Manetho, Berosus, Ctesias, or the like fabulous
or counterfeit writers.

Ale, Give me leave to observe, those learned critics
may prove to be ecclesiastics, perhaps some of them
papists.

Crt\ What do you think of Sir Isaac Newton, was he

^ [Herodotus in Euterpe.] — Author.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 293

either a papist or ecclesiastic? Perhaps you may not
allow him to have been in sagacity, or force of mind, equal
to the great men of the minute philosophy ; ^t it cannot
be denied that h/^ hr^^ ^^^^ ^^^ t hought much upon the 1/

Ijectj^^d that the result of his inquiry was a perfect
!empt of all those celebrated rivals to Moses.

Ale. It hath been observed by ingenious men, that Sir
Isaac Newton, though a layman, was deeply prejudiced :
witness his great regard to the Bible.

Cri. And the same may be said of Mr. Locke, Mr. Boyle,
Lord Bacon, and other famous laymen, who, however
knowing in some points, must, nevertheless, be allowed
not to have attained that keen discernment which is the
peculiar distinction of your sect.

23. But p erhaps th ere may be other reas ons beside
prejudice to incli ne a man to give Moses the prefefence ;
on the truth of whose history the government, manners,
and religion of his country were founded and framed ;
of whose history there are manifest traces in the most
ancient books and traditions of the gentiles, particularly
of the Brachmans and Persees ; [not to mention the general
attestation of Nature as well as Antiquity to his account
of a deluge'] whose history is confirmed by the late
invention of arts and sciences, the gradual peopling of the
world, the very names of ancient nations, and even by the
authority and arguments of that renowned philosopher
Lucretiu s, who, on other points, is so much admired and
followed by those of your sect. Not to mention, that the
continual decrease of fluids, the sinking of hills, and the
retardation * of planetary motions, afford so many natural
proofs which shew this world had a beginning; as the
civir or historical proofs above mentioned do plainly point
out this beginning to haye.been__abQut the. time assigned
inHoIyj cript ure. . . After all which I beg leave to add
one observation more. To any one who considers that, on
digging into the earth, such quantities of shells, and, in
some places, bones and horns of animals are found sound
and entire, after having lain there in all probability some
thousands of years ; it should seem probable that gems,

* Added in the third edition.

2 * retardation * — * diminution * in the first edition.

294 ALClPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

medals, and implements in metal and stone might have
lasted entire, buried under the ground forty or fifty
thousand years, if the world had been so old. How comes
it then to pass that no remains are found, no antiquities
of those numerous ages preceding the Scripture accounts
of time ; no fragments of buildings, no public monuments,
no intaglias, cammeos, statues, basso-relievos, medals,
inscriptions, utensils, or artificial works of any kind are
ever discovered, which may bear testimony to the exist-
ence of those mighty empires, those successions of
monarchs, heroes, and demi-gods, for so many thousand
years ? Let us look forward and suppose ten or twenty
thousand years to come ; during which time we will sup-
pose that plagues, famines, wars, and earthquakes shall
have made great havoc in the world ; — is it not highly
probable that, at the end of such a period, pillars, vases,
and statues now in being, of granite, porphyry, or jasper
(stones of such hardness as we know them to have lasted
two thousand years above ground, without any consider-
able alteration), would bear record of these and past ages?
Or, that some of our current coins might then be dug up,
or old walls, and the foundations of buildings shew them-
selves, as well as the shells and stones of the primeval
world are preserved down to our times ? To me it seems
to follow from these considerations, which common sense
and experience make all men judges of, that we may see
good reason to conclude, the world wa s created about the
time recorded in Holy Sc ripture. And if we admit a
thing so extraordinary as the creation of this world, it
should seem that we admit something strange, and odd,
and new to human apprehension, beyond any other
miracle whatsoever ^

* This curious passage, in proof
of the recent origin of this planet,
was perhaps suggested by some of
Newton's or Boyle's speculations,
or by Leibniz. * It is evident,* says
Newton, in a passage thus trans-
lated from his OpticSy in Dr. Samuel
Clarke's Third Reply to Leibniz,
* that motion can on the whole
both increase and diminish. But,
because of the tenacity of fluid

bodies, and the attrition of their
parts, and the weakness of elastic
force in solid bodies, motion is, in
the nature of things, always more
apt to diminish than to increase.
. . . Since, therefore, all the various
motions that are in the world are
perpetually decreasing; it is ab-
solutely necessary, in order to pre-
serve and renew those motions,
that we have recourse to some

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

295

24. Alciphron sat musing and made no answer.

Whereupon Lystcles expressed himself in the following
manner: — I must own I should rather suppose with
Lucretius, that the world was made by chance, and that
men grew out of the earth, like pompions, than pin my
faith on those wretched fabulous fragments of Oriental
history. And as for the learned men who have taken
pains to illustrate and piece them together, they appear
to me no better than so many musty pedants. An ingenious
free-thinker may perhaps now and then make some use of
their lucubrations, and play one absurdity against another.
But you are not therefore to think he pays any real regard
to the authority of such apocryphal writers, or believes
one syllable of the Chinese, Babylonian, or Egyptian
traditions. If we seem to give them a preference before
the Bible, it is only because they are not established by
law. This is my plain sense of the matter, and I dare say
it is the general sense of our sect ; who are too rational
to be in earnest on such trifles, though they sometimes
give hints of deep erudition, and put on a grave face to
divert themselves with bigots.

Ale. Since Lysicles will have it so, I am content not to
build on accounts of time preceding the Mosaic. I must
nevertheless beg leave to observe, there is another point
of a different nature, against which there do not lie the same
exceptions, that deserves to be considered, and may serve
our purpose as well. I presume it will be allowed that
historians, treating of times within the Mosaic account,
ought by impartial men to be placed on the same foot with

active principles.' — {Papets between
Leibniz and Clarke , in 17 15 and
1 7 16, relating to the Principles of
Natural Philosophy and Religion, p.
87.) * The active forces which are
in the universe/ Clarke remarks,
* diminishing themselves so as to
stand in need of new impressions,
is no inconvenience, no disorder,
no imperfection in the workman-
ship of the universe ; but is the con-
sequence of the nature of dependent
things/ (pp. 85, 87.) * The present
frame of the solar system (for in-
stance) according to the present

laws of motion, will in time fall
into confusion; and perhaps after'
that will be amended, or put into
a new form. But this amendment
is only relative, with regard to our
conceptions. In reality, and with
regard to God, the present frames
and the consequent disorder, and
the following renovation, are all
equally parts of the design framed
in God's original perfect idea.'
(pp. 45, 47.) Cf. De MotUf sect.
i9» 32, 36, and the Protogcea of
Leibniz.

296 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Moses. It may therefore be expected that those who
pretend to vindicate his writings should reconcile them
with parallel accounts of other authors, treating of the
same times, things, and persons. And, if we are not
attached singly to Moses, but take our notions from other
writers, and the probability of things, we shall see good
cause to believe the Jews were only a crew of leprous
Egyptians, driven from their country on account of that
loathsome distemper; and that their religion, pretended
to have been delivered from Heaven at Mount Sinai, was
in truth learned in Egypt, and brought from thence.

Cri, Not to insist on what cannot be denied, that an
historian writing of his own times is to be believed before
others who treat of the same subject several ages after,
it seems to me that it is absurd to expect that we should
reconcile Moses with profane historians, till you have first
reconciled them one with another. In answer, therefore,
to what you observe, I desire you would consider, in the
first place, that Manetho, Chaeremon, and Lysimachus had
published inconsistent accounts of the Jews, and their
going forth from Egypt ^ : in the second place, that their
language is a plain proof they were not of Egyptian, but
either of Phoenician, of Syrian, or of Chaldean original:
and, in the third place, that it doth not seem very probable
to suppose their religion, the basis or fundamental principle
of which was the worship of one supreme God, and the
principal design of which was to abolish idolatry, could be
derived /rom Egypt, the most idolatrous of all nations.
It must be ownedf, the separate situation and institutions
of the Jews occasioned their being treated by some
foreigners with great ignorance and contempt of them and
their original. But Strabo, who is allowed to have been
a judicious and inquisitive writer, though he was not
acquainted with their true history, makes more honourable
mention of them. He relates that Moses, with many other
worshippers of one infinite God, not approving the image-
worship of the Egyptians and other nations, went out from
Egypt and settled at Jerusalem, where they built a temple
to one only God without images ^.

* [Joseph. Contra Apion, Lib. I.] — Author.
^ LStrab. Lib. XVL]— Author.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 297

25. Ale. We who assert the cause of Hberty against
religion, in these later ages of the world, lie under great
disadvantages, from the loss of ancient books, which
cleared up many points to the eyes of those great men,
Celsus, Porphyry, and Julian, which at a greater distance
and with less help cannot be so easily made out by us :
but, had we those records, I doubt not we might demolish
the whole system at once.

Cri. And yet I make some doubt of this ; because those
great men, as you call them, with all those advantages,
could not do it.

Ale. That must needs have been owing to the dullness
and stupidity of the world in those days, when the art
of reasoning was not so much known and cultivated as
of late. But those men of true genius saw through the
deceit themselves, and were very clear in their opinion,
which convinces me they had good reason on their side.

Cri. And yet that great man Celsus seems to have had
very slight and inconstant notions : one while, he talks
like a thorough Epicurean ; another, he admits miracles,
prophecies, and a future state of rewards and punishments.
What think you, Alciphron, is it not something capricious
in so great a man, among other advantages which he
ascribes to brutes above human-kind, to suppose they
are magicians and prophets; that they have a nearer
commerce and union with the Divinity; that they know
more of men; and that elephants, in particular, are or
all others most religious animals and strict observers
of an oath \

Ale. A great genius will be sometimes whimsical. But
what do you say to the Emperor Julian? was he not
an extraordinary man?

Cri. He seems by his writings to have been lively and
satirical. Further, I make no difficulty of owning that he
was a generous, temperate, gallant, and facetious emperor.
But at the same time it must be allowed, because his own
heathen panegyrist Ammianus Marcellinus* allows it, that
he was a prating, light, vain, superstitious sort of man.
And therefore his judgment or authority can be of but small
weight with those who are not prejudiced in his favour.

* [Origcn, Contra Celsum^ Lib. IV.] — Author.
^ [Am. Marcellin. Lib. XXV.] — Author.

298 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Ale, But of all the great men who wrote against revealed
religion, the greatest without question was that truly great
man Porphyry, the loss of whose invaluable work can
never be sufficiently lamented. This profound philosopher
went to the bottom and original of things. He most
learnedly confuted the Scriptures, shewed the absurdity
of the Mosaic accounts, undermined and exposed the
prophecies, and ridiculed allegorical interpretations K The
moderns, it must be owned, have done great things, and
shewn themselves able men ; yet I cannot but regret the
loss of what was done by a person of such vast abilities,
and who lived so much nearer the fountain-head ; though
his authority survives his writings, and must still have
its weight with impartial men, in spite of the enemies
of truth.

Crt, Porphyry, I grant, was a thorough infidel, though
he appears by no means to have been incredulous. It
seems he had a great opinion of wizards and necromancers,
and believed the mysteries, miracles, and prophecies of
Theurgists and Egyptian priests. He was far from being
an enemy to obscure jargon ; and pretended to extra-
ordinary ecstasies. In a word, this great man appears
to have been as unintelligible as a schoolman, as super-
stitious as a monk, and as fanatical as any Quietist or
Quaker ; and, to complete his character as a minute philo-
sopher, he was under strong temptations to lay violent
hands on himself. We may frame a notion of this patriarch
of infidelity by his judicious way of thinking upon other
points as well as the Christian religion. So sagacious
was he as to find out that the souls of insects, when
separated from their bodies, became rational : that demons
of a thousand shapes assist in making philtrums and
charms, whose spiritual bodies are nourished and fattened
by the steams of libations and sacrifices : that the ghosts
of those who died violent deaths used to haunt and
appear about their sepulchres. This same egregious
philosopher adviseth a wise man not to eat flesh, lest

^ [Luc. Holstenius, De Vita et in consequence of studying Plato

Scriptis Porphyrii.'X — Author. and the Fathers. He removed to

Holstenius was a German scholar Italy, was librarian of Cardinal

of the seventeenth century, who Barbarini, annotated various ancient

renounced Protestantism, it is said, writers, and died at Rome in 1661.

tHE SiXtH DIALOGUE 299

the impure soul of the brute that was put to violent death
should enter, along with the flesh, into those who eat it. He
adds, as a matter of fact confirmed by many experiments,
that those who would insinuate into themselves the souls
of such animals as have the gift of foretelling things to
come, need only eat a principal part, the heart, for instance,
of a stag or a mole, and so receive the soul of the animal,
which will prophesy in them like a god ^ No wonder
if men whose minds were preoccupied by faith and tenets
of such a peculiar kind should be averse from the reception
of the gospel. Upon the whole, we desire to be excused
if we do not pay the same deference to the judgment of
men that appear to us whimsical, superstitious, weak, and
visionary, which those impartial gentlemen do, who admire
their talents, and are proud to tread in their footsteps.

Ale, Men see things in different views : what one admires
another contemns: it is even possible for a prejudiced
mind, whose attention is turned towards the faults and
blemishes of things, to fancy some shadow of defect in
those great lights which in our own days have enlightened,
and still continue to enlighten, the world.

•

26. But pray tell me, Crito, what you think of Josephus.
He is allowed to have been a man of learning and judgment.
He was himself an assertor of revealed religion. And
Christians, when his authority serves their turn, are used
to cite him with respect.

Cri. All this I acknowledge.

Ale. Must it not then seem very strange, and very
suspicious to every impartial inquirer, that this learned
Jew, writing the history of his own country, of that very
place, and those very times, where and when Jesus Christ
made His appearance, should yet say nothing of the
character, miracles, and doctrine of that extraordinary
person ? Some ancient Christians were so sensible of
this that, to make amends, they inserted a famous passage "^
in that historian; which imposture hath been sufficiently
detected by able critics in the last age.

' [Vide Porphyrium De Ab- resurrection of Jesus are referred to,

siinentia, De Sacrificiis, De Diis et and He is spoken of as * a wise man,

Dcemonihtis?^ — Author. if it be lawful to call Him a man,

* Josephus, Ant, Lib. XVHI. for he was a doer of wonderful

cap. 3, where the life, miracles, and works,' &c.

300 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Cri Though there are not wanting able critics on the
other side of the question, yet, not to enter upon the dis-
cussion of that celebrated passage, I am content to give
you all you can desire, and suppose it not genuine, but
the pious fraud of some wrong-headed Christian, who
could not brook the omission in Josephus. But this
will never make such omission a real objection against
Christianity. Nor is there, for aught I can see, anything
in it whereon to ground either admiration or suspicion,
inasmuch as it should seem very natural, supposing the
gospel account exactly true, for Josephus to have said
nothing of it: considering that the view of that writer
was to give his country some figure in the eye of the
world, which had been greatly prejudiced against the Jews
and knew little of their history, to which end the life
and death of our Saviour would not in any wise have
conduced ; considering that Josephus could not have been
an eye-witness of our Saviour or His miracles; con-
sidering that he was a Pharisee of quality and learning,
foreign as well as Jewish, one of great employment in
the state, and that the gospel was preached to the poor;
that the first instruments of spreading it and the first
converts to it were mean and illiterate, that it might not
seem the work of man, or beholden to human interest
or power ; considering the general prejudice of the Jews,
who expected in the Messiah a temporal and conquering
prince, which prejudice was so strong, that they chose rather
to attribute our Saviour's miracles to the devil, than acknow-
ledge Him to be the Christ ; considering also the hellish
disorder and confusion of the Jewish state in the days
of Josephus, when men's minds were filled and astonished
with unparalleled wars, dissensions, massacres, and seditions
of that devoted people. Laying all these things together,
I do not think it strange that such a man, writing with
such a view, at such a time, and in such circumstances,
should omit to describe our blessed Saviour's life and
death, or to mention His miracles, or to take notice ot
the state of the Christian church, which was then as
a grain of mustard-seed beginning to take root and germi-
nate. And this will seem still less strange, if it be con-
sidered that the apostles in a few years after our Saviour's
death departed from Jerusalem, setting themselves to con-

THK SIXTH DIALOGUE

vert the gentiles, andweredispersed throughout the world;
that the converts in Jerusalem were, not only of the
meanest of the people, but also few; the three thousand
added to the church in one day upon Peter's preaching
in that city, appearing to have been not inhabitants but
strangers from all parts assembled to celebrate the feast
of Pentecost ; and that all the time of Josephus and for
several years after, during a succession of fifteen bishops,
the Christians at Jerusalem observed the Mosaic law',
and were, consequently, in outward appearance, one people
with the rest of the Jews, which must have made them
less observable. I would fain know what reason we have
to suppose that the gospel, which in its first propagation
seemed to overlook the great or considerable men of this
world, might not also have been overlooked by them, as
a thing not suited to their apprehensions and way of
thinking? Besides, in those early times might not other
learned Jews, as well as Gamaliel^, suspend their judg-
ment of this new way, as not knowing what to make
or say of it, being on one hand unable to quit the notions
and traditions in which they were brought up, and, on
the other, not daring to resist or speak against the gospel,
lest they should be found to fight against God ? Surely
at all events, it could never be expected that an uncon-
verted Jew should give the same account of the life,
miracles, and doctrine of Jesus Christ as might become
a Christian to have given; nor, on the other hand, was
it at all improbable that a man of sense should beware
to lessen or traduce what, for aught he knew, might have
been a heavenly dispensation : between which two courses
the middle was to say nothing, but pass it over in a doubt-
ful or respectful silence. And it is observable that where
this historian occasionally mentions Jesus Christ, in his
account of St. James's death, he doth it without any re-
flection, or saying either good or bad, though at the same
time he shews a regard for the apostle. It is observable,
I say, that, speaking of Jesus, his expression is, 'who
was called the Christ,' not who pretended to be the Christ,
or who was falsely called the Christ, but simply roi Xtyofit'vou

' [Sulp. Sever

302 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

XptffToO*. It is evident Josephus knew there was such
a man as Jesus, and that He was said to be the Christ,
and yet he condemns neither him nor his followers ; which
to me seems an argument in their favour. Certainly if
we suppose Josephus to have known or been persuaded
that He was an impostor, it will be difficult to account
for his not saying so in plain terms. But, if we suppose
him in Gamaliel's way of thinking, who suspended his
judgment, and was afraid of being found to fight against
God, it should seem natural for him to behave in that
very manner which according to you makes against our
faith, but I verily think makes for it. But what if Josephus
had been a bigot, or even a Sadducee, an infidel, an
atheist ? What then ! we readily grant there might have
been persons of rank, politicians, generals, and men of
letters, then as well as now, Jews as well as Englishmen,
who believed no revealed religion ; and that some such
persons might possibly have heard of a man in low life,
who performed miracles by magic, without informing them-
selves, or perhaps ever inquiring, about his mission and
doctrine. Upon the whole, I cannot comprehend why
any man should conclude against the truth of the gospel
from Josephus's omitting to speak of it, any more than
from his omitting to embrace it. Had the first Christians
been chief-priests and rulers, or men of science and learn-
ing, like Philo and Josephus, it might perhaps with better
colour have been objected that their religion was of human
contrivance, than now that it hath pleased God by weak
things to confound the strong. This I think sufficiently
accounts, why in the beginning the gospel might overlook
or be overlooked by men of a certain rank and character.

27. Ale. And yet it seems an odd argument in proof of
any doctrine, that it was preached by simple people to
simple people.

Cru Indeed if there was no other attestation to the
truth of the Christian religion, this must be owned a very
weak one. But if a doctrine begun by instruments, mean
as to all human advantages, and making its first progress
among those who had neither wealth, nor art, nor power
to grace or encourage it, should in a short time, by its

* [Josephus, Ant. Lib. XX. cap. 8, 9.] — ^Author.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE

303

own innate excellency, the mighty force of miracles, and
the demonstration of the Spirit, not only without but
against all worldly motives, spread through the world, and
subdue men of all ranks and conditions of life, would it
not be very unreasonable to reject or suspect it, for the
want of human means? And might not this with much
better reason be thought an argument of its coming from
God?

Ale. But still an inquisitive man will want the testimony
of men of learning and knowledge.

Cri. But, from the first century onwards, there was
never wanting the testimony of such men, who wrote
learnedly in defence of the Christian religion, who lived,
many of them, when the memory of things was fresh, who
had abilities to judge and means to know, and who gave
the clearest proofs of their conviction and sincerity.

Ale. But all the while these men were Christians, pre-
judiced Christians, and therefore their testimony is to
be suspected.

Cri. It seems then you would have Jews or heathens
attest to the truths of Christianity?

Ale. That is the very thing I want.

Cri. But how can this be ? Or, if it could, would not
any rational man be apt to suspect such evidence, and
ask how it was possible for a man really to believe such
things himself and not become a Christian? The apostles
and first converts were themselves Jews, and brought up
in a veneration for tlie law of Moses, and in all the pre-
judices of that people : many Fathers, Christian philo-
sophers, and learned apologists for the faith, who had
been bred gentiles, were without doubt imbued with pre-
judices of education: and if the finger of God and force
of truth converted both the one and the other from Judaism
or gentileism, in spite of their prejudices to Christianity,
is not their testimony so much the stronger? You have
then the suffrages of both Jews and gentiles, attesting to
the truth of our religion in the earliest ages. But to
expect or desire the attestation of Jews remaining Jews,
or of gentiles remaining gentiles, seems unreasonable : nor
can it be imagined that the testimony of men, who were
not converted themselves, should be the likeliest to con-
vert others. We have indeed the testimony of heathen

304 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

writers to prove that about the time of our Saviour's birth
there was a general expectation in the east of a Messiah
or Prince, who should found a new dominion : that there
were such people as Christians: that they were cruelly
persecuted and put to death : that they were innocent
and holy in life and worship : and that there did really
exist in that time certain persons and facts mentioned
in the New Testament. And for other points, we have
learned Fathers, several of whom had been, as I have
already observed, bred heathens, to attest their truth.

Ale, For my part, I have no great opinion of the
capacity or learning of the Fathers, and many learned
men, especially of the reformed churches abroad, are
of the same mind, which saves me the trouble of looking
myself into their voluminous writings.

Crt, I shall not take upon me to say, with the minute
philosopher Pomponatius \ that Origen, Basil, Augustin,
and divers other Fathers were equal to Plato, Aristotle,
and the greatest of the gentiles in human knowledge.
But, if I may be allowed to make a judgment from what
I have seen of their writings, I should think several of
them men of great parts, eloquence, and learning, and
much superior to those who seem to undervalue them.
Without any affront to certain modern critics or trans-
lators, Erasmus may be allowed a man of fine taste, and
a fit judge of sense and good writing, though his judgment
in this point was very different from theirs. Some of our
reformed brethren, because the Romanists attribute too
much, seem to have attributed too Httle to them, from
a very usual, though no very judicious, opposition;
which is apt to lead men to remark defects, without
making proper allowances, and to say things which
neither piety, candour, nor good sense require them to say.

28. Ale. But, though I should acknowledge that a con-
curring testimony of many learned and able men throughout

' [Lib, De Immortaiitate Ant'mce.'] in philosophy, it does not appear

— Author. Pomponatius (1462- that this interesting personage was

1525) was a bold Italian thinker, an unbeliever in religion, although

who influenced opinion in the early he concluded that human immor-

part of the sixteenth century. While tality was undemonstrable by

he was a free inquirer and sceptic science.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 305

the first ages of Christianity may have its weight, yet
when I consider the great number of forgeries and heresies
that sprung up in those times, it very much weakens their
credit.

Crt. Pray, Alciphron, would it be allowed a good argu-
ment in the mouth of a papist against the Reformation,
that many absurd sects sprung up at the same time with it ?
Are we to wonder that, when good seed is sowing, the
enemy should sow tares ? But at once to cut off several
objections, let us suppose in fact, what you do not deny
possible, that there is a God, a devil, and a revelation from
heaven committed to writing many centuries ago. Do but
take a view of human nature, and consider what would
probably follow from such a supposition ; and whether
it is not very likely there should be half-believers, mistaken
bigots, holy frauds, ambitious, interested, disputing, con-
ceited, schismatical, heretical, absurd men among the
professors of such revealed religion ; as well as, after
a course of ages, various readings, omissions, transposi-
tions, and obscurities in the text of the sacred oracles?
And if so, I leave you to judge whether it be reasonable
to make those events an objection against the being of
a thing which-^ would probably and naturally follow upon
the supposal of its being ?

Ale, After all, say what you will, this variety of opinions
must needs shake the faith of a reasonable man. Where
there are so many different opinions on the same point
it is very certain they cannot all be true, but it is certain
they may all be false. And the means to find out the
truth ! When a man of sense sets about this inquiry, he
finds himself on a sudden startled and amused with hard
words and knotty questions. This makes him abandon
the pursuit, thinking the game not worth the chase.

Crt, But would not this man of sense do well to con-
sider, it must argue want of discernment to reject Divine
truths for the sake of human follies ? Use but the same
candour and impartiality in treating of religion that you
would think proper on other subjects. We desire no
more, and expect no less. In law, in physic, in politics,
wherever men have refined, is it not evident they have
been always apt to run into disputes and chicane? But
will that hinder you from admitting there are many good

BERKELEY : FRASEK. II. X

306 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

rules, and just notions, and useful truths in all those pro-
fessions? Physicians may dispute, perhaps vainly and
unintelligibly, about the animal system : they may assign
different causes of distempers, some explaining them by
the elementary qualities, hot and cold, moist and dry : yet
this doth not hinder but the bark may be good for an
ague, and rhubarb for a flux. Nor can it be inferred from
the different sects which from time to time have sprung
up in that profession, the dogmatic, for instance, empiric,
methodic. Galenic, Paracelsian, or the hard words and
knotty questions and idle theories which have grown from
them, or been engrafted on them, that, therefore, we
should deny the circulation of the blood, or reject their
excellent rules about exercise, air, and diet.

Ale. It seems you would screen religion by the example
of other professions, all which have produced sects and
disputes as well as Christianity ; which may in itself be
true and useful, notwithstanding many false and fruitless
notions engrafted on it by the wit of man. Certainly if
this had been observed or believed by many acute reasoners,
they would never have made the multiplicity of religious
opinions and controversies an argument against religion
in general.

Cri. How such an obvious truth should escape men of
sense and inquiry 1 leave you to account : but I can very
easily account for gross mistakes in those who pass for
free-thinkers without ever thinking ; or, if they do think,
whose meditations are employed on other points of a very
different nature from a serious and impartial inquiry about
religion.

29. But to return : what or where is the profession of
men, who never split into schisms, or never talk nonsense ?
Is it not evident that out of all the kinds of knowledge on
which the human mind is employed there grow certain
excrescences, which may be pared off, like the clippings
of hair or nails in the body, and with no worse consequence?
Whatever bigots or enthusiasts, whatever notional or
scholastic divines may say or think, it is certain the faith
derived from Christ and His jippstles wa s not a pie ce of
e mpty sophistry : tPTey "did not deliver and""transniit down
to us K€VTjv dwaTrjv, but yvfxvrjv yv^fxrjv, to use the expression

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 307

of a holy confessor'. And to pretend to demolish their
foundation for the sake of human superstructure, be it
hay or stubble or what it will, is no argument of just
thought or reason ; any more than it is of fairness to
suppose a doubtful sense fixed, and argue from one side
of the question in disputed points. W hether, for instance,
t.he_begiiiiiii^_o_f_Ge_ne5is isjo be_ understood "in a literal
or^allegoricaLsense? Whether the book of Job be a
histoj^_iir_a_panable? Being poi nts, disputed- between
Christians, an infidel can have no right to argue from one
aide of the question in those or the like cases. This or
that tenet" of" a "sect, tTiis or that controverted notion, is
not what we contend for at present, but the General Faith
taught by Christ and His apostles, and preserved by uni-
versal and perpetual tradition in all the churches down to
our own times. To tax or strike at this Divine Doctrine,
on account of things foreign and adventitious, the specu- /
lations and disputes of curious men, is in my mind an p^i 6 ft
absurdity of the same kind as it would be to cut down a fine /
tree, yielding fruit and shade, because its leaves afforded '
nourishment to caterpillars, or because spiders may now
and then weave cobwebs among the branches.

Ale. To divide and distinguish would take time. Wc
have several gentlemen very capable of judging in the
gross, but that want attention for irksome and dry studies,
or minute inquiries. To which, as it would be very hard
to oblige men against their will, so it must be a great
wrong to the world, as well as themselves, to debar them
from the right of deciding according to their natural sense
of things.

Cri. It were to be wished those capable men would
employ their judgment and attention on the same objects.
If theological inquiries are unpalatable, the field of nature /q
is wide. How many discoveries are to be made ! How \ •'^ ^^
many errors to be corrected in arts and sciences I How
many vices to be reformed in life and manners ! Why do
men single out such points as are innocent and useful,
when there are so many pernicious mistakes to be
amended ? Why set themselves to destroy the hopes ol
human kind and encouragements to virtue? Why delight

' [Socr. IlUlv,. Seeks. Lii). 1.]— AuiiioK.

3o8 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

to judge where they disdain to inquire ? Why not employ
their noble talents on the longitude or perpetual motion ?

Ale, I wonder you should not see the difference between
points of curiosity and religion. Those employ only men
of a genius or humour suited to them. But all mankind
have a right to censure, and are concerned to judge of
these ; except they will blindly submit to be governed by
the stale wisdom of their ancestors, and the established
laws of their country.

Cri. It should seem, if they are concerned to judge,
they are not less concerned to examine before they
judge.

Ale, But after all the examination and inquiry that
mortal man can make about Revealed Religion, it is
impossible to come at any rational sure footing, p Strange
things are told us, and in proof thereof it is said that men
have laid down their lives. But it maybe easily conceived,
and hath been often known, that men have died for the
sake of opinions, the belief of which, whether right or
wrong, had over-possessed their minds.

Ale, I grant you may find instances of men dying for
false opinions which they beilieved ; but can you assign an
instance of a man's dying for the sake of an opinion which
he did not believe. The case is inconceivable ; and yet
this must have been the case if the witnesses of Christ^s
miracles and resurrection are supposed impostors.]

30. There is, indeed, a deal of specious talk about faith
founded upon miracles. But when I ^xagiinp thifi matter
thoroughly, and trace Christian f^hh^-vk p - tu its -original,
I find it restsupon much darkness, and scruple, an d
uncertainty. Instead of" points evident or agreeable"^
hiiman reason, I find a wonderful narrative of the Son of
God tempted in the wilderness by the devil, a thing utterly
unaccountable, without any end, or use, or reason what-
soever. I meet with strange histories of apparitions of
angels, and voices from heaven, with surprising accounts
of demoniacs, things quite out of the road of common sense
and observation, with several incredible feats said to have
been done by Divine power, but more probably the inven-

^ The sentences within brackets were introduced in the third edition.

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 309

tions of men : nor the less likely to be so, because I cannot
pretend to say with what view they were invented. Designs
deeply laid are dark, and the less we know the more we
suspect : but, admitting them for true, I shall not allow
them to be miraculous, until I thoroughly know the power
of what are called second causes, and the force of Magic.

Cri. You seem, Alciphron, to analyse, not faith, but
infidelity, and trace it to its principles ; which, from your
own account, I collect t^j2g.dark and H^uhtfnl srniplf^s and
sunnisesj. hastiness in judging, and narrowness in thinking,
g rounded on a fanciful notio^ 'which overrates the little
scaiTitlin g of you r own expeffenceTand on real ignorance of
the views ot Providence , and of the qualities, operations,
and mutual respects of the several kinds of beings which
are, or may be, for aught you know, in the universe. Thus
obscure, uncertain, conceited, and conjectural are the
principles of infidelity. Whereas, on the other hand, the
principles of faith seem to be points plain and clear. It is
a clear point tha t t his faith in Christ was spread abro ad
througliout th6 World S6on alter His death. It is a clear
point that this was not effected by human learning, politics,
or power. It is a clear point that in the early times of the
church there were several men of knowledge and integrity,
who embraced this faith not from any, but against all,
temporal motives. It is a clear point that, the nearer they
were to the fountain-head, the more opportunity they had
to satisfy themselves as to the truth of those facts which
they believed. It is a clear point that the less interest
there was to persuade, the more need there was of evidence
to convince them. It is a clear point that they relied on
the authority of those who declared themselves eye-
witnesses of the miracles and resurrection of Christ. It
is a clear point that those professed eye-witnesses suffered
much for this their attestation, and finally sealed it with
their blood. It is a clear point that these witnesses, weak
and contemptible as they were, overcame the world, spread r\
more light, preached purer models, and did more benefi t Ty?df<
t o mankind than all the philosophers and sages put
togel "

hese points appear to me clear and sure, and, being
allowed such, they are plain, just, and reasonable motives
of assent ; they stand upon no fallacious ground, they

3IO ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

contain nothing beyond our sphere, neither supposing
more knowledge nor other faculties than we are really
masters of; and, if they should not be admitted for morally
certain, as I believe they will by fair and unprejudiced
inquirers, yet the allowi ng them to be only probabl e is
sufficient to stog ^he_ mouth of an infidel. These plain
points, I 'say,"are the pjnars'oF ourTaitIi, and not those
obscure ones by you supposed ; which are in truth the
unsound uncertain principles of infidelity, to a rash, pre-
judiced, and assuming spirit. To raise an argument or
answer an objection from hidden powers of Nature or
Magic is groping in the dark ; but, by the evident light of
sense, men might be sufficiently certified of sensible effects
and matters of fact, such as the miracles and resurrection
of Christ ; and the testimony of such men may be trans-
mitted to after ages, with the same moral certainty as other
historical narrations; and those same miraculous facts,
compared by reason with the doctrines they were brought
to prove, do afford to an unbiassed mind strong indications
of their coming from God, or a superior principle, whose
Goodness retrieved the moral world, whose Power com-
manded the natural, and whose Providence extended over
both. Give me_l eave to say th at nothing dark, n othing
incomprehensible, or mysterious, or u naccounta ble, is the
ground or motive, the principle or Ibuh dation, t he proof or
reason of our faith although it may be the object of it.
For, it must be owned that, if by clear and sure principles
we are rationally led to believe a point less clear, we do.
not therefore reject such point because it is mysterious to
conceive, or difficult to account for; nor would it be right
so to do. As for Jews and gentiles anciently attributing
our Saviour's miracles to Magic, this is so far from being
a proof against them that to me it seems rather a proof of
the facts, without disproving the cause to which we ascribe
them. As we do not pretend to kno w the natu re and
operations of demons, the history, . la\vs,_aiHL-syfitem of
rational beings, and the schemes or views of Providence,
so far as to account for every action Jand appearance
recorded in the gospel ; so neither do you know enough of
those things to be able, from that knowledge of yours, to
object against accounts so well attested. It is an easy
matter to raise scruples upon many authentic parts of civil

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 311

I history, which, requiring a more perfect knowledge of facts,
circumstances, and councils than we can come at to explain
them, must be to us inexplicable. And this is st^ill_ more
eas^with respect to the history of Nature, in which, if
surmi ses, were_a dmitt ed fo_r. proofs against things p3d;
strange, and unaccountable ; if pur scanty experience were
made the ru le ,and measure of truth, and all those pheno-
mena rejected, that we, through ignorance of the principles,
and laws, and system of nature, could not explain, we
should indeed make discoveries, but it .would be only of
our own blindness and presumption. And why men that
are so easily and so often gravelled in common points, in
things natural and visible, should yet be so sharp-sighted
and dogmatical about the invisible world and its mysteries
is to me a point utterly unaccountable by all the rules of
logic and good sense. Upon the whole, therefore, 1 cannot
help thinking there are points sufficiently plain, and clear,
and full, whereon a man may ground a reasonable faith in
Christ: but that the attacks of minute philosophers against
this faith are grounded upon darkness, ignorance, and
presumption.

A/c. I doubt I shall still remain in the dark as to the
proofs of the Christian religion, and always presume there
is nothing in them.

31. For. how is it possible, at this remote distance, to
arrive at any knowledge, or frame any demonstration
about it?

Cri. What then? Knowledge, I grant, in a strict sense,
cannot be had without evidence or demonstration : but
p rnhahif; argiiiT ient?; are a sufficient groun d of faitlT^ .
Whoever supposed that scientifical proofs were necessary
to make a Christian? Faith alone is required; and,
provided that, in the main and upon the whole, men are
persuaded, this saving faith may consist with some degrees
ofobscurity, scruple, and error. For, althqu^i_t he -light
of_trulh be yachangeable, and the same in its eternal
source, the Father of Lights : yet, with respect to us, it is

'^ Probability, accordingtoBcrke- „,,, — , ,

ley, is the correlative of Faith : ofhis complex constitution, not a
tlie reason for Christianity is

appeal!
correlative ol Faith : ofhis complex

.^ for Christianity Is pure intelligen

lainly moral and practical, ll br/cr 'ilii S. P.

312 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

variously weakened and obscured^_by passing through
a long distance or gross medium, where it isjntercepted,
distorted, or tinctured, by the prejudices and pjissions of
men. But, all this notw it hstanding, he that will use his
eyes may see enough tor tKe purposes eitner ot nature^ f
oT gf ace-^thoTlgh by a IjghL dimmer Indeed, or clearer,
according to the place, or the distance, or the"Ti6"ur, or the
medium. And it will be sufficient if such analogy appears
between the dispensations of grace and nature, as may
make it probable (although much should be unaccountable
in both) to suppose them derived from the same Author,
and the workmanship of one and the same Hand \

A/c. Those who saw, and touched, and handled Jesus
Christ after His resurrection, if there were any such, may
be said to have seen by a clear light : but to us the light is
very dim, and yet it is expected we should believe this
point as well as they. For my part, I believe, with
Spinosa, that Christ's death was literal, but His resurrection
allegorical '.

^ This sentence expresses the
leading conception in the Analogy
of Butler. Butler*s analogical argu-
ment is not to be confounded with
Browne's proposition — that man's
so-called knowledge of God and His
attributes must, from the limitations
of human intelligence, be only
* analogical ' or figurative.

^ [Vide Spinosae Epist. ad Olden'
burgiutn,'] — Author. This is one
of the few references to Spinosa by
Berkeley. The following passage
is probably alluded to : — * Quod
scilicet Christus non senatui, nee
Pilato, neccuiquam in proelium,sed
Sanctis tantummodo apparuerit, et
quod Deus neque dextram neque
sinistram habeat nee in loco, sed
ubique secundum essentiam sit, et
quod materia ubique sit eadem, et
quod Deus extra mundum in spatio,
quod fingunt, imaginario, sese non
manifestet, et quod denique cor-
poris humani compages intra debitos
limites solo afiris pondere coer-
ceatur ; facile videbis banc Christi
apparitionem non absimilem esse

illi qua Deus Abrahamo apparuit,
quando hie vidit homines, quos ad
secum prandendum invitavit. At
dices, Apostolos omnes omnino
credidisse quod Christus a morte
resurrexerit at ad caelum revera
ascenderit : quod ego non nego.
Nam ipse etiam Abrahamus credi-
dit, quod Deus apud ipsum pransus
fuerit, et omnes Israelitse, quod
Deus a ccelo igne circumdatus ad
montem Sinai descenderit et cum iis
immediate locutus fuerit, quum
tamen haec et plura alia hujus modi
apparitiones seu revelationes fue-
rint, captui et opinionibiis eorum
hominum accommodatse, quibus
Deus mentem suam iisdem revelare
voluit. Conclude, itaque, Christi a
mortuis resurrectionem revera spiri-
tualem et solis fidelibus ad eorum
captum revelatam esse, nempequod
Christus aetemitate donatus qui
et a mortuis (mortuos hie intelligo
eo sensu, quo Christus dixit — smite
mortuos sepelire mortuos suos) sur-
rexit, simul atque vita et morte
singularis sanctitatis exemplum

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 313

Cri. And, for my part, I can see nothing in this
celebrated infidel that should make me desert matters of
fact, and moral evidence, to adopt his notions. Though
I must needs own I admit an allegorical resurrection that
proves the real — to wit, a resurrection of Christ's disciples
from weakness to resolution, from fear to courage, from
despair to hope, of which, for aught I can see, no rational
account can be given, but the sensible evidence that our
Lord was truly, really, and literally risen from the dead.
But as it cannot be denied that His disciples, who were
eye-witnesses of His miracles and resurrection, had
stronger evidence than we can have of those points ^ ; so
it cannot be denied, that such evidence was then more
necessary, to induce men to embrace a new institution,
contrary to the whole system of their education, their
prejudices, their passions, their interests, and every human
motive. Though to me it seems the moral evidence and
probable arguments within our reach "are abundantly
si^jQ^cient te make prudent thinking men adhere to the
faith hgjided down to us from our ancestors, established *
% the b^^*=^ ^^ ^"'' country, requiring submission in points
above^jiUC-Jaiowledge, and for the rest recommending
doctrines the most agreeable to our interest and our
reason. And, however strong the light might have been
aTTHe fountain-head, yet its long continuance and propaga-
tion, by such unpromising instruments throughout the
world, have been very wonderful. We may now take
a more comprehensive view of the connexion, order, and
progress of the Divine dispensations, and, by a retrospect
on a long series of past ages, perceive a unity of design
running throughout the whole, a gradual disclosing and
fulfilling the purposes of Providence, a regular progress
from types to antitypes, from things carnal to things
spiritual, from earth to heaven. ' We may behold Christ
crucified, that stumbling-block to the Jews and foolishness
to the Greeks, putting a final period to the temple-worship

dedit ; et eatenus discipulos suos Christianae Prinapia Mathcmaitca

a mortuis suscitat, quatenus ipsi of John Craig, published in 1699,

hoc vitee ejus et mortis exemplum an attempt is made to prove mathc-

scquuntur.' — Epistola XXIII. See matically that the historical evi-

also Episiolce XXI, XXV. dence of Christianity, gradually

* Of. Berkeley's Sermon before weakening, will be reduced to zero

the S. P. Gt In the Theologice in a. p. 3150.

314 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

of the one and the idolatry of the other, and that stone, which
was cut out of the mountain without hands and brake in
pieces all other kingdoms, become itself a great mountain.

32. If a due reflexion on these things be not sufficient
to beget a reverence for the Christian faith in the minds of
men, I should rather irnpute it to any other cause than
a wise and cautious incredulity : when I see their easiness
of faith in the common concerns of life, where there is no
d prejudice or appetite to bias or disturb their natural
\j judgment : when I see those very men that in religion will
not stir a step without evidence, and at every turn expect
demonstration, trust their health to a physician, their lives
to a sailor, with an implicit faith, I cannot think they
deserve the honour of being thought more incredulous than
other men, or that they are more accustomed to know, and
for this reason less inclined to believe. On the contraryi
one is tempted to suspect that ignorance hath a greater
share than science in our modern infidelity ; and that it
proceeds more from a wrong head, or an irregular will,
than from deep researches.

Lys. We do not, it must be owned, think that learning
or deep researches are necessary to pass right judgments
upon things. I sometimes suspect that learning is apt to
produce and justify whims, and sincerely believe we should
do better without it. Our sect are divided on this point,
but much the greater part think with me. I have heard
more than once very observing men remark, that learning
was the true human means which preserved religion in
the world ; and that, if we had it in our power to prefer
blockheads in the church, all would soon be right.

Cri, Men must be strangely in love with their opinions,
to put out their eyes rather than part with them. But it
has been often remarked by observing men, that there are
no greater bigots than infidels.

Lys, What ! a free-thinker and a bigot — Impossible !

Cri, Not so impossible neither, that an infidel should be
bigoted to his infidelity. Methinks I see a bigot wherever
I see a man overbearing and positive without knowing
why, laying the greatest stress on points of smallest
moment, hasty to judge of the conscience, thoughts, and
inward views of other men, impatient of reasoning against

THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 315

his own opinions, and choosing them with inclination
rather than judgment, an enemy to learning, and attached
to mean authorities. How far otir modern infidels agree
with this description, I leave to be considered by those
who really consider and think for themselves,

Lys. We are no bigots; we are men that discover
difficulties in religion, that tie knots and raise scruples,
which disturb the repose and interrupt the golden dreams
of bigots, who therefore cannot endure us.

Cri. They who cast about for difficulties will be sure to
find or make them upon every subject ; but he that would,
upon the foot of reason, erect himself into a judge, in order
to make a wise judgment on a subject of tliat nature, will
not only consider the doubtful and difficult parts of it, but
take a comprehensive view of the whole, consider it in all
its parts and relations, trace it to its original, examine its
principles, eiFects, and tendencies, its proofs internal and
external. He will distinguish between the clear points
and the obscure, the certain and the uncertain, the essential
and circumstantial, between what is genuine and what
foreign. He will consider the different sorts of proof
that belong to different things — where evidence is to be
expected, where probability may suffice, and where it is
reasonable to suppose there should be doubts and scruples.
He will proportion his pains and exactness to the import-
ance of the inquiry, and check that disposition of his mind
to conclude all those notions, groundless prejudices, with
which it was imbued before it knew the reason of them.
He win silence his passions, and listen to truth. He will
endeavour to untie knots as well as tie them, and dwell
rather on the light parts of things than the obscure. He
will balance the force of bis understanding with the
difficulty of the subject, and, to render his judgment
impartial, hear evidence on all sides, and, so far as he is
led by authority, choose to follow that of the honestest and
wisest men. Now, it is my sincere opinion, the Christian
religion may well stand the test of such an inquiry.

Lys. But such an inquiry would cost too much pains and
lime. We have thought of another method— the bringing
religion to the test of wit and humour : this we find a much
shorter, easier, and more effectual way. And, as all
enemies are at liberty to choose their weapons, we make

3l6 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

choice of those we are most expert at : and we are the better
pleased with this choice, having observed that of all things
a solid divine hates a jest.

Euph} To consider the whole of the subject, to read
and think on all sides, to object plainly, and answer
directly, upon the foot of dry reason and argument, would
be a very tedious and troublesome affair. Besides, it is
attacking pedants at their own weapons. How much more
delicate and artful is it, to give a hint, to cover oneself
with an enigma, to drop a double entendre y to keep it in
one's power to recover, and slip aside, and leave his
antagonist beating the air !

Lys. This hath been practised with great success, and
I believe it the top method to gain prosel3^es, and confound
pedants.

Cri, I have seen several things written in this way,
which, I suppose, were copied from the behaviour of a sly
sort of scorners one may sometimes meet with. Suppose
a conceited man that would pass for witty, tipping the
wink upon one, thrusting out his tongue at another; one
while waggishly smiling, another with a grave mouth and
ludicrous eyes ; often affecting the countenance of one who
smothered a jest, and sometimes bursting out in a horse-
laugh : what a figure would this be, I will not say in the
senate or council, but in a private visit among well-bred
men ! And yet this is the figure that certain great authors,
who in this age would pass for models, and do pass for
models, make in their polite and elaborate writings on the
most weighty points ^

Ale, I who profess myself an admirer, an adorer of
reason, am obliged to own that in some cases the sharp-
ness of ridicule can do more than the strength of argument.
But if we exert ourselves in the use of mirth and humour,
it is not for want of other weapons. It shall never be said
that a free-thinker was afraid of reasoning. No, Crito,
we have reasons in store, the best are yet to come ; and if
we can find an hour for another conference before we set
out to-morrow morning, I will undertake you shall be plied
with reasons, as clear, and home, and close to the point as
you could wish.

* What Euphranor here says is in the first edition attributed to Lysicles.
^ Shaftesbury.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE ^

I. Christian faith impossible. 2. Words stand for ideas. 3. No know-
ledge or faith without ideas. 4. Grace, no idea of it. 5. Suggesting
ideas not the only use of words. 6. Force as difficult to form an idea of as
grace. 7. Notwithstanding which, useful propositions may be formed
concerning it. 8. Belief of the Trinity and other mysteries not
absurd. 9. Mistakes about faith an occasion of profane raillery.
10. Faith — its true nature and effects. 11. Illustrated by science.
12. By arithmetic in particular. 13. Sciences conversant about signs.
14. The true end of speech, reason, science, and faith. 15. Meta-
physical objections as strong against human science as articles of
faith. 16. No rehgion, because no human liberty. 17. Further proof
against human liberty. 18. Fatalism a consequence of erroneous
suppositions. 19. Man an accountable agent. 20. Inconsistency,
singularity, and credulity of minute philosophers. 21. Untrodden
paths and new light of the minute philosophers. 22. Sophistry of the
minute philosophers. 23. Minute philosophers ambiguous, enigmatical,
unfathomable. 24. Scepticism of the minute philosophers. 25. How
a sceptic ought to behave. 26. Minute philosopheris — why difficult to
convince. 27. Thinking, not the epidemical evil of these times.
28. Infidelity not an effect of reason or thought : its true motives
assigned. 29. Variety of opinions about religion, effects thereof.
30. Method for proceeding with minute philosophers. 31. Want of
thought and want of education defects of the present age.

I. The philosophers having resolved to set out for
London next morning, we assembled at break of day in
the library.

* In this Dialogue the argument
passes from the moral evidence
of Christian faith to the cred ibilit y
of Christiani ty, notwithstanding
the Jviysterics that are. embedded
inlL_ Christianity, it was. alleged
by free-thinkers, is essentially
mysterious, and, as such, cannot
be vindicated by any evidence,
however probable. This leads to
a discussion of the relation between

Faith and Science, and the utility
of language even when terms
do not suggest ideas ; followed by
an application to the mysteries of
Grace,Trinity, Incarnation,Original
Sin, and Free Agency — the last
involving the fundamental presup-
position of religion and morality.
At the close of the discussion.
Minute Philosophy appears to re-
solve into Universal Scepticism.

3l8 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Alciphron began with a declaration of his sincerity,
assuring us he had very maturely and with a most un-
biassed mind considered all that had been said the day
before. He added that upon the whole he could not deny
several probable reasons were produced for embracing the
Christian faith. But, said he, those reasons being only
probable, can never prevail against absolute certainty and
demonstration. If, therefore, I can demonstrate your
religion to be a thing altogether absurd and inconsistent,
your probable arguments in its defence do from that
moment lose their force, and with it all right to be
answered or considered. The concurring testimony of
sincere and able witnesses hath without question great
weight in human affairs. I will even grant that things odd
and unaccountable to human judgment or experience may
sometimes claim our assent on that sole motive. And
I will also grant it possible for a tradition to be conveyed
with moral evidence through many centuries. But at the
same time you will grant to me that a thing demonstrably
and palpably false is not to be admitted on any testimony
whatever^ which at best can never amount to demonstra-
tion. To be plain, no testimony can make nonsense
sense : no moral evidence can make contradictions con-
sistent. Know, then, that as the strength of our cause
doth not depend upon, so neither is it to be decided by
any critical points of history, chronology, or languages.
You are not to wonder, if the same sort of tradition and
moral proof which governs our assent with respect to
facts in civil or natural history is not admitted as a suffi-
cient voucher for metaphysical absurdities and absolute
impossibilities. Things obscure and unaccountable in
human affairs or the operations of nature may yet be
possible, and, if well attested, may be assented unto ; _but
religious assent or Faith can be evidently shewn ittiis own
nature to be impractTcablertmpQ.s.sihle^ and absurd. This is
the primary motive to infidelity. This is our citadel and
fortress, which may, indeed, be graced with outworks ot
various erudition, but, if those are demolished, remains
in itself and of its own proper strength impregnable.

Euph. This, it must be owned, reduceth our inquiry
within a narrow compass: do but make out this, and
I shall have nothing more to say.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

319

_ ^/c. Know then that the shallow mind of the vulgar, as
it dwells only on the outward surface of things, and
considers them in the gross, may be easily imposed on.
Hence a blind reverence for religious Faith and Mystery.
But when an acute philosopher comes to dissect and
analyse these points, the Imposture plainly appears ; and,
as he has no blindness, so he has no reverence for empty
notions ; or, to speak more properly, for mere forms of
speech, which mean nothing, and are of no use to mankind.

2. Words are signs : they do or should stand for ideas ;
which so far as they suggest they are significant. But
words that suggest no ideas are insignificant. He who
annexeth a clear idea to every word he makes use of
speaks sense; but where such ideas are wanting, the
speaker_utters , nonsense '. In order therefore to know
whether any man's speech be senseless and insignificant,
we have nothing to do but lay aside the words, and
consider the ideas suggested by them. Men, not being
able immediately to conununicate their ideas one to
another, are obliged to make use of sensible signs or
words ; the use of which is to raise those ideas in the
hearer which are in the mind of the speaker ; and if they
fail of this end they serve to no purpose. He who really
thinks hath a train of ideas succeeding each other and
connected in his mind; and when he expresseth himself
by discourse each word suggests a distinct idea to the
hearer or reader ; who by Chat means hath the same train
of ideas in his which was in the mind of the speaker or
writer. As far as this effect is produced, so far the disr
course is intelligible, hath sense and meaning. Hence it
follows that whoever can be supposed to understand what
he reads or hears must have a train of ideas raised in his
mind, correspondent to the train of words read or heard.
These plain truths, to which men readily assent in theory,
are but little attended to in practice, and therefore deserve
to be enlarged on and incVcated, however obvious and
undeniable. Mankind are generally averse from thinking,

' So Locke, Essay, Bk. HI. ch. words wc employ. Cf. Berkeley,

0, 10, also Collins, Phiiosophical De Mola, sect. 39. In what fol-

Inqiiiiy, pp. a, 8, who urge the lows, ideas mean representative

need tor tiaving ideas in all (be intuitions, or generic images.

320 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

though apt enough to entertain discourse either in them-
selves or others : the effect whereof is that their minds are
r,§theiL-stQj:edjHdtb-^rames~thaft-4deas, the husk of science
rather than the thing. And yet these words without
meaning do often make distinctions of parties, the subject-
matter of their disputes, and the object of their zeal. This
is the most general cause of error, which doth not influence
ordinary minds alone, but even those who pass for acute
and learned philosophers are often employed about names
instead of things or ideas, and are supposed to knowwhen
they only pronounce hard words without a meaning.

3. Though it is evident that, as knowledge is the percep-
tion of the connexio n or disagreement bet ween ideas \ he
who doth not distinctly perceive the ideas iirarkedJbiy the
terms, so as to form a mental proposittelf SHSWeringtothe
verbal, cannot possibly have knowledge. "No more can
he be said to have opinion or faith ; which imply a weaker
assent, but still it must be to a proposition, the terms of
which are understood as clearly, although the agreement
or disagreement of the ideas may not be so evident, as
in the case of knowledge. I say, all degrees of assent,
whether founded on reason or authority, more or less
cogent, are internal acts of the mind, which alike terminate
in ideas as their proper object ; without which there can
be really no such thing as knowledge, faith, or opinion.
We may perhaps raise a dust and dispute about tenets
purely verbal ; but what is this at bottom more than mere
trifling? All which will be easily admitted with respect to
Human learning and science; wherein it is an allowed
method to expose any doctrine or tenet b y strip ping them
of the words, and examining what ideas are underneath,
or whether any ideas at all*-^? This is often found the
shortest way to end disputes, which might otherwise grow
and multiply without end, the litigants neither under-
standing one another nor themselves. It were needless
to illustrate what shines by its own light, and is admitted
by all thinking men. My endeavour shall be only to
apply it in the present case. I suppose I need not be at
any pains to prove that the same rules of reason and good

^ So Locke, Essay J Bk. IV. ch. 1.

^ Cf. Principles^ * Introduction,* sect. 23, 24.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 32!

sense which obtain in all other subjects ought to take
place in religion. As for those who consider faith and
reason as two distinct provinces, and would have us think
good sense has nothing to do where it is most concerned,
I am resolved never to argue with such men, but leave
them in quiet possession of their prejudices.

And now, for the particular application of what I have
said, I shall not single out any nice disputed points of
school divinity, or those that relate to the nature and
essence of God, which, being allowed infinite, you might
pretend to screen them under the general notion of
difficulties attending the nature of Infinity.

4. Grace is the main point in the Christian dispensation :
nothing is oftener mentioned or more considered through'
out the New Testament; wherein it is represented as
somewhat of a very particular kind, distinct from anything
revealed to the Jews, or known by the light of nature.
This same gracj&ia.sppken of ^s.the gift of God, as coming
by Jesus Christy as reigning, as abounding, as operating.
Men are Said 'to speak through grace, to believe through
grace. Mention is made of the glory of grace, the riches
of grace, the stewards of grace. Christians are said to be
heirs of grace, to receive grace, grow in grace, be strong
in grace, to stand in grace, and to fall from grace. And
lastly, grace is said to justify and to save them. Hence
Christianity is styled the covenant or dispensation of
grace. And it is well known that no point hath created
more controversy in the church than this doctrine of
grace. What disputes about its nature, extent, and effects,
about universal, efficacious, sufficient, preventing, irre-
sistible grace, have employed the pens of Protestant as
well as Popish divines, of Jansenists and Molinists, of
Lutherans, Calvinists, and Arminians, as I have not the
least curiosity to know, so I need not say. It sufficeth to
observe, that there have been and are still subsisting great
contests upon these points. Only one thing I should
desire to be informed of, to wit, What is the clear and
distinct idea marked by the word grace? I presume
a man may know the bare meaning of a term, without
going into the depth of all those learned inquiries. This
surely is an easy matter, provided there is an idea anne xed

BERKELEY : FRASER. II. Y

322 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

to such term. And if there is not, it can be neither the
subject of a rational dispute, nor the object of real faith.
Men may indeed impose upon themselves or blh^TS, and
pretend to argue and believe, when at bottom there is
no argument or belief, further than mere verbal trifling.
Grace taken in the vulgar sense, either for beauty, or
favour, I can easily understand. But when it denotes an
active, vital, ruling principle, influencing and operating on
the mind of man, distinct from every natural power or
motive, iprofess rnyself altogether unable t o .understand
it, or frame any distinct idea of it; and ther efore I cannot
assent to any proposition concemingjt^ nor^Jonsequently
hav e any f aithab out it : and it is a self-evidenTtrulh, that
God obligetTnTolnan to impossibilities. At the request of
a philosophical friend, I did cast an eye on the writings he
shewed me of some divines, and talked with others on this
subject, but after all I had read or heard could make
nothing of it, having always found, whenever I laid aside
the word graces and looked into my own mind, a perfect
vacuity or privation of all ideas. And, as I am apt to
think men's minds and faculties are made much alike,
I suspect that other men, if they examine what they call
grace with the same exactness and indifference, would
agree with me, that there was nothing in jt but. an empty
name. This is not the only instance where a word often
fieard and pronounced is believed intelligible, for no other
reason but because it is familiar. Of the same kind
are many other points repuied necessary articles of faith.
That which in the present case imposeth upon mankind
I take to be partly this : men speak of this holy principle
as of something that acts, moves, and determines, taking
their ideas from corporeal things, from motion and the
force or momentum of bodies, which, being of an obvious
and sensible ^ nature, they substitute in place of a thing
spiritual and incomprehensible, which is a manifest delu-
sion. For, though the idea of corporeal force be never
so clear and intelligible, it will not therefore follow that
the idea of grace, a thing perfectly incorporeal, must be
so too. And though we may reason distinrtly^ perceive.

assent, and form opinions about the one, it will by no

' Cf. De MotUy sect. 43-66, which resolve motion into perceptible
change of relative place.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

323

means follow that we can do so of the other. Thus it
c omes to pass that a clear sensible .idea.i}£ J^vliat,jsj*eal
produceth; or rather js made a pretence for, an imaginary
spiritual faith that terminates in no object^a thing im-
^ible !_ Forjhere ^n_be no assem A^ei^eJhfir^
ideas : and where there is no assent there can be no faith :
and wBat cannot be, that no man is obliged to. This is as
clear as anything in Euclid ^.

* The three following sections
in brackets, which appear in the
first and second editions of Aid-
phrotty as sections 5, 6, 7, were
omitted in the amended third edition
(1752); the omission is significant
if it means dissatisfaction with his
fgrai£iiaDiidfijQ£-assaUH)g-^-abstract
ideas * :—

* [5. The same method o f reasoning
may be applied by any man of sense
to confute all other the most essen-
tial articles of the Christian faith.
You are not therefore to wonder
that a man who proceeds on such
solid grounds, such clear and evi-
dent principles, should be deaf to
all you can say from moral evidence,
or probable arguments, which are
nothing in the balance against
demonstration.

Euph, The more light and force
there are in this discourse, the
more you are to blame for not
having produced it sooner. For
my part, I should never have said
one word against evidence. But
let me see whether I understand
you rightly. You say, every word
in an intelligible discourse must
stand for an idea ; which ideas as
far as they are clearly and dis-
tinctly apprehended, so far the
discourse hath meaning, without
which it is useless and insignificant.

Ale, I do.

Euph, For instance, when I hear
the word maftf triangle^ colour, pro-
nounced, they must excite in my
mind distinct ideas of those things
whereof they are signs ; otherwise
I cannot be said to understand them.

Ale. Right.

Euph. And this is the only true
use of language.

Ale, That is what I affirm.

Euph. But every time the word
tnan occurs in reading or conversa-
tion, I am not conscious that the
particular distinct idea of a man
is excited in my mind. For instance,
when I read in St. Paul's Epistle
to the Galatians these words, • If
a man thinketh himself to be some-
thing when he is nothing, he de-
ceive th himself,' methinks I com-
prehend the force and meaning of
this proposition, although I do not
frame to myself the particular dis-
tinct idea of a man.

Ale, It is very true you do not
form in your mind the particular
idea of Peter, James, or John, of
a fair or a black, a tall or a low,
a fat or a lean, a straight or a
crooked, a wise or a foolish, a sleep-
ing or a waking man ; J>«t— thfe
abstract general idea^ftfjaoa, pre-
scinding irom and exclusive of all
particular shape, size, complexion,
passions, faculties, and every indi-
vidual circumstance.

To explain this matter more fully,
y ou are to understand there is in
t fie human mind a lacukv of U im-
tempia tiii^ the _ ^eneral_ n alufe ol
thJng'STse paratefrom all^ose pa r-

t iCUlat-in^ which fH«=tting»iish rhff
itfgiVtauairp^ ^ft from another. For
"example, m Peter, James, and
John, you may observe in each a
certain collection of stature, figure,
colour, and other peculiar proper*
ties by which they are known

324 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

5. Eupli, Be the use of words or names what it will,
I can never think it is to do things impossible. Let us

-jdeasi which they never fail to
excite in the mind, as oft as they
are used to any significant purpose.
And without this there could be no
communication fi£..£nla£§ement of
knowledge, nn sprh fhing as uni-
versal science or theorems of any
kind. Now, for understanding any
proposition or discourse, it is suffi-
cient that distinct ideas are thereby
raised in your mind, correspondent
to those in the speaker's, whether
the ideas so raised are particular,
or only abstract and general ideas.
Forasmuch, nevertheless, as these
are not so obvious and familiar to
vulgar minds, it happens that some
men may think they have no idea
at all, when they have not a par-
ticular idea ; but the truth is, you
had the abstract general idea of
man, in the instance assigned,
wherein you thought you had none.
After the same manner, when it is
said that the three angles of a tri-
angle are equal to two right ones ; or
that colour isthe object of sigljtj it is
evident the words do not stand for

asunder, distinguished from all
other men, and, if I may so say,
individuated. Now, leaving out of
the idea of a man that which is
peculiar to the individual, and re-
taining only that which is common
to all men, you form an abstract
universal idea of jHan .jjihuman
nature ; vyhich in jj'i^^g^^^ no^ ar-

firiilar Qtatnr^^^ «t>ig pe^ COlour~

O ther quality^ whether of m ind or
body. A fter the same manner you
may observe particular triangles to
differ one from another, as their
sides are equal or unequal, and
their angles greater or lesser ;
whence they are denominated equi-
lateral, equicrural, or scalenum,
obtusangular, acutangular, or rect-
angular. Butthemind,excIudingout
of its ide^ ail these peculiar p i upei -
tiesand distinctions, Ira meatTTggen -
eral abstract idea uf a triangle -which
is neither equilateral, equicrural,
norscalenum, neither obtusangular,
acutangular, nor rectangular ; but.
all and none _of these at once *.
THe same maybe saidof the general
abstract idea of co/o«r, which is some-
thing distinct from and exclusive
of blue, red, green, yellow, and
every other particular colour, in-
cluding only that general essence
in which they all agree. And
what has been said of these three
general names, and the abstract
general ideas they stand for, may
be applied to all others. For you
must know that particular things
or ideas being infinite, if each
were marked or signified by a
distinct proper name, words must
have been innumerable, and lan-
guage an endless impossible thing.
Hence it comes to pass t hatappella -
tive or ge neral nam es stand, imme-
diately and prop^rtvrtwt-f or par-
ticular but fnr flK«tfrar< general

thiS^r fViafr triangle nf rnlniir^ but

for abstract general ideas, excluding
everything peculiar to the indi-
viduals, and including only the Uni-
versal Nature common to the whole
kind of triangles or of colours.

6. Euph, Tell me, Alciphron, are
those abstract general ideas clear
and distinct ?

Ale, They are above all others
clear and distinct, being the only
proper object of science, which is
altogether conversant about Uni-
versals.

Euph, And do you not think it
very possible for any man to know
whether he has this or that clear
and distinct idea or no ?

Ale. Doubtless. To know this

* [See Locke, On Human Understanding, Bk. IV. ch. 7.] — Author.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

325

then inquire what it is ? and see if we can make sense of
our daily practiced V^ords. it is agreed, are signs; it

he needs only examine his own
thoughts and look into his own
mind.

f Euph, But, upon looking into
my own mind, I do not find that
I have or can have these general
abstract ideas of a man or a triangle
above-mentioned, or of colour pre-
scinded from all particular colours*.
Though I shut mine eyes, and use
mine utmost efforts, and reflect on
all that passeth in my own mind,
I find it utt erly impossible to form
si^ch^deas.

Ale, To reflect with due attention
and turn the mind inward upon
itself is a difScult task, and not
every one's talent.

Euph, Not to insist on what you
allowed — that every one might
easily know for himself whether
he has this or that idea or no,
I am tempted to think nobody else
can form those ideas any more than
I can. Pray, Alciphron, which are
those things you would cajl. a^so-
luie fy impOGoibk ?

Ale. Such as incl ude a c ontra-
diction.

Euph, Can you frame an idea of
what includes a contradiction ?

Ale, I cannot.

Euph, Consequently, whatever
is absolutely impossible you cannot
form an idea of?

Ale, This I grant.

Euph. But can a colour, or tri-
angle, such as you describe their
abstract general ideas, really exist ?

Ale. It is absolutely impossible
such things should exist in na-
ture.

'^ Eiiph, Shouyitjipt follow, then,
that they cannot exist . in your
mind, or^^ in othe r words, that you
cannot conceive or frame an idea of
them?

Ale, You seem, Euphranor, not
to distinguish between pure intel-
lect and imagination f . Abstract
general ideas I take to be the
object of pure intellect, which may
conceive them ; although they can-
not perhaps be imagined.

Euph. I do not perceive that
I can by any faculty, whether of
intellect or imagination, conceive
or frame an idea of that which is
impossible and includes a contra-
diction. And I am very much at
a loss to account for your admitting:
that in common instances, which
you would make an argument
against Divine faith and mysteries.

7. Ale, There must be some mis-
take in this. How is it possible
there should be general knowledge
without general propositions, or
these without general names, which

* [See the * Introduction * to a Treatise eonceming the Prineiples of
Human Knowledge^ printed in the year 17 10, where the absurdity of
abstract ideas is fully considered.] — Author.

Cf. also New Theory of Vision^ sect. 124, 125 ; De Motu, passim ; and
Defenee of Free-thinking in Mathematics^ sect. 45-48. Throughout his
intellectual life he has been clinging to the concrete, and resisting the
disposition to abstract from it.

f vtyrjiiara and (pavT&afJuiTa, as the Greeks term the respective products
of those faculties. Cf. Berkeley's De MotUj sect 53, in which he
distinguishes pure intellect and imagination.

^ Note that while the omitted in the Introduction to the Principles
sections (5-7) harmonise with those (sect. 7-17) that are directed against

326 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

may not therefore be amiss ta examine the u s e of other
signs, in order to know that of words. Counters, for
instance, at a card-table are used, not for their own sake,
Uut^only as signs, substituted Jor money, as words are f or
ideas." "Say now, Alciphrbn, is it necessary every time
tliese counters are used throughout the pr ogress o f a
game, to frame an idea of the distinct sum CTrlFalue that
each represents ' ? " ^ ^""

Ale, By no means : it is sufficient the players first agree

cannot be without general ideas by
standing for which they become
general ?

Euph, But may not words be-
come general by being made to
stand indiscriminately for all par-
ticular ideas, which, from a mutual
resemblance, belong to the same
kind ; without the intervention of
any abstract general idea ?

Ale. Is there, then, no such thing
as a general idea ?

Euph. May we not admit ^^wfrfl/
ideas though we should not admit
them to be made by abstraction,
or though we should not allow of
general abstract ideas 1 To me it
seems a particular idea may become
general, by being used to stand
for or represent other ideas ; and
that general knowledge is con-
versant about signs or general ideas
made such by their signification ;
and which are considered rather
in their relative capacity, and as
substituted for others, than in their
own nature, or for their own sake.
A black line, for instance, an inch
long, though in itself particular,

may yet become universal, being
used as a sign to stand for any
line whatsoever.

Ale. It is your opinion, then,
that words become general by repre-
senting an indefinite number of
particular ideas ?

Euph. It seems so to me.

Ale. Whenever, therefore, I hear
a general name, it must be sup-
posed to excite some one or other
particular idea of that species in
my mind ?

Euph. I cannot say so neither.
Pray, Alciphron, doth it seem to
you necessary that, as often as the
word man occurs in reading or
discourse, you must form in your
mind the idea of a particular man?

Ale. 1 own it doth not : and, not
finding particular ideas always
suggested by the words, I was led
to think I had abstract general
ideas suggested by them. And
this is the opinion of all thinking
men, who are agreed the only use
of words is to suggest ideas. And
indeed what other use can we
assign them ?] * *

* In the table of contents prefixed to this Dialogue, in the first and
second editions, sections 5, 6, 7, now omitted in the text, appear thus:—

* 5. Abstract ideas, what, and how made. 6. Abstract general ideas
impossible. 7. In what sense there may be general ideas.'

' abstract ideas,' this and the follow-
ing sections restate, and apply to the
question about mysteries, the teach-
ing of the remainder of the Introduc-
tion to the Principles (sect. 18-25),
which treats of unreflecting employ-

ment of language, as a source of
the empty abstractions which men
mistake for concrete realities.

* * an idea ' — here a mental image
or picture.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

327

on their respective values, and at last substitute those
values in their stead.

Eupk. And in casting up a sum, where the figures
stand for pounds, shillings, and pence, do you think it
necessary, throughout the whole progress of the operation,
in each step to form ideas of pounds, shillings, and
pence?

Ale. 1 do not; it will suffice if in the conclusion those
figures direct our actions with respect to things.

Euph. From hence it seems to follow, that words may
not be insignificant, al tTiougTi. they should iiot, everjLtime
they are used , excite the ideas tliey_signify i'l.oyx minds ;
rt being sufficient that we have it in our power to substitute
t hmgs o r ideas ^^jlbr their signs when there is occasion.
It seems also 2to"Toilow, that there may be another use of
words besidesThat of -m arking- and -suggesifng "dfettnct
i deas, to wit, the influencing "our"conduct and actions;
which may be done either by forming rules for us to
act by, or by raising certain passions, dispositions, and
emotions in our minds. A discourse, therefore, that dkects
ho w to act or exci te to the doing or forbearance of _an
action m ay, it seems, 5e useful and significant, although
the words whereof it is composed should not bring each
a distinct idea into our minds'.

Ale. It seems so.

Euph. Pray tell me, Alciphron, is not an idea altogether
inactive ?

Ale. It is \

Euph. An agent therefore, an active mind, or spirit
cannot be an idea, or like an idea. Whence it should seem
to follow that those words which denote an active principle,
soul, or spirit do not, in a strict and proper sense, stand
for ideas. And yet they are not insignificant neither;
since I understand what is signified by the term /, or myself,
or know what it means: although it be no idea, or like
an idea, but that which thinks, and wills, and apprehends

' ' things or ideas,' L e. concrete sect. ao.

ir of sensuous ' Cf. PriHciples 0/ Human Khow-

igns may lidge. sea. 35; De Mo/ii, sect, aa —

» realise in which, as elsewhere, theabsolute

powerlessness nf sensible things

dais either of sr

imagination, which the

denote, and which we cau reajisi

in imagination if we tales thi

' Cf. Pnncifilcs, Introduction

328 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

ideas, and operates about them \ p Certainly it must be
allowed that we have some notion, and that we understand
or know what is meant by, the terms myself, will, memory,
love, hate, and so forth ; although, to speak exactly, these
words do not suggest so many distinct ideas.]

Ak. What would you infer from this ?

Eupli. What hath been inferred already — that words
may be significant, although they do not stand for ideas'.
The contrary whereof having been presumed seems to
have produced the doctrine of abstract ideas.

Ale. Will you not allow then that the mind can abstract?

!Euph. I do not deny it may abstract in a certain sense :
inasmuch as those things that can r£all^-£xist, or be really
perceived asunder, may be conceived asunder, or abstracted
one from the other ; for instance, a man's head from his
body, colour from motion, figure from weight. But it will
not thence follow that the mind can frame abstract general
ideas, which appear to be impossible *.
Ale. And yet it is a current opinion that every sub-
stantive name marks out and exhibits to the mind one
distinct idea separate from all others.

Euph. Pray, Alciphron, is not the word number such
a substantive name?
Ale. It is.
« Euph. Do but try now whether you can frame an idea
of number in abstract ; exclusive of all signs, words, and
things numbered. I profess for my own part I cannot.

Ale. Can it be so hard a matter to form a simple idea
of number, the object of a most evident demonstrable
science ? Hold, let me see if I cannot abstract the idea
of number from the numerical names and characters, and
all particular numerical things. — Upon which Alciphron
paused awhile, and then said. To confess the truth I do
not find that I can.

' Cf. Principles of Human Know-
ledge, sect 2, 26,27. Spirit, in short,
is something deeper than its ideas ;
which (especially ideas of sense)
are ultimately beyond the control
of finite spirits.

^ The sentence in brackets was
introduced in the third edition.

*' [See the Prindples of Human

Knowledge y sect 135, and the 'In-
troduction,' sect. 20.] — ^AuTHOji.

* Such ' ideas' involve the con-
tradiction of being at once empty
abstractions and yet concrete ob-
jects; seeing that Berkeley still
confines the term idea to what is
concrete and sensuous.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

329

ph. But, though it seems neither you nor I can form
distinct simple ideas of number, we can nevertheless make
a very proper and significant use of numeral names. They
direct us in the disposition and management of our affairs,
and are of such necessary use, that we should not know
how to do without them. And yet, if other men's faculties
may be judged by mine, to obtain a precise simple abstract
idea of number, is as difficult as to comprehend any mystery
in religion',

6. But, to come to your own instance, let us examine
what idea we can frame of force, abstracted from body,
motion, and outward sensible effects^ For myse lF_L.do

Ak. Surely every one knows what is meant by force. ^^

Enpji. And yej 1 question whether eve ry one can form 1/^ jJtP'
a distinct idea of force. Let me entreat you, Aiciphron, ^^

be not amused by term^ : lay ^^ ^ ^^"' '-"^r ii force, anti t^
eSclude every other thii^g fi^m your thoughts, and then
see what precise idea you have of force.

Ak. Force is that in bodies which produces motion
and other sensible eff'ects.

Euph. Is it then something distinct from those effects ?

Ak. It is.

Euph. Be pleased now to exchide the consideration of
its subject and effects, and contemplate force itself in its
own precise idea.

Ale. I profess I find it no such easy matter.

Euph. Take your own advice, and shut your eyes to
assist your meditation, — Upon tliis, Aiciphron, having
closed his eyes and mused a few minutes, declared he
could make nothing of it.

And that, replied Euphranor, which it seems neither
you nor I can frame an idea of, by your own remark of
men's minds and faculties being made much alike, we may
suppose others have no more an idea of than we.

Ak. We may.

Euph. But, notwithstanding all this, it is certain there
are many speculations, reasonings, and disputes, refined

r. Di Molii, sect. 7, IT, ]8, 38, 39 ; also Aiialysl, sect, 7, 8, 47-50,

330 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

subtilties, and nice distinctions about this same /ora\
And to e xplain its nature, and to distinguish the seve ral
notions nr kmd^ J>f ifr, thii^ ffrmR gravi^^ reartton, Hi
inerticBf vis tnst'ta, vis impressa, vis mortua, vis viva, impetus^
momentuniy solicitatio, conatus, and divers others such-like
expressions, have been used by learned men : and no
small controversies have arisen about the notions or defi-
nitions of these terms. It HaHjij^^l^^/^ ^^j y jq know
whether force is spiritual or corporealj whether it rema ins
after action ; how it is transferred from one body to
another. Strange paradoxes have been framedLahout its
nature, properties, and proportions': for instance, that
contrary forces may at once subsist in the same quiescent
body : that the force of percussion in a small particle is
infinite. For which, and other curiosities of the same
sort, you may consult Borellus, De Vi Percussionis, the
Lezioni Academtche of Torricelli, the Exercitations of Her-
manus*, and other writers. It is well known to the
learned world what a controversy hath been carried on
between mathematicians, particularly Monsieur Leibnitz
and Monsieur Papin/, in the Leipsic Acta Eruditorunif
about the proportion of forces : whether they be each to
other in a proportion compounded of the simple pro-
portions of the bodies and the celerities, or in one com-
pounded of the simple proportion of the bodies and the
duplicate proportion of the celerities ? A point, it seems,
not yet agreed : as indeed the reality of the thing itself
is made a question. Leibnitz distinguisheth between the
nisus elementarisy and the impetus which is formed by
a repetition of the nisus elementaris, and seems to think
they do not exist in nature, but are made only by an
abstraction of the mind. The same author, treating of
original active force, to illustrate his subject, hath recourse
to the substantial forms and entelecheia of Aristotle. And
the ingenious Torricelli saith of force and impetus, that

^ Cf. De Motu, sect. 8-20, and he was professor of mathematics,
the notes, with what Euphranor He contributed on scientific sub-
says here. jects to the Journal des Sauans,

^ A German physician and natu- the Philosophical TransacHons, and

ral philosopher in the seventeenth the Ada Eruditorum of Leipsic,

century. and invented the apparatus known

' A French natural philosopher, as ' Papin's digester.*
who died in i7ioat Marburg, where

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

331

they. are subtle abstracts and spiritual quintessences ; and
concerning the momentum and the velocity of heavy bodies
falling, he saith they are un certo che, and m« non so che ;
that IS, in plain English, he knows not what to make of
them. Upon the whole, therefore, may we not pronounce
that — excluding body, time, space, motion, and all its
sensible measures and effects ' — we shall find it as difficult
to form an idea oi force as oi grace^f
Ale. I do not know what to think of it.

7. Eupb. And yet, I presume, you allow there are very
evident propositions or theorems relating to force, which
contair^' useful; truths : for instance, that a body with
conjuncl-fbnTes describes the diagonal of a parallelogram,
in the same time that it would the sides with separate. Is
not this a principle of very extensJ .yg.jis e ? Doth not the
doctrine of the composiKorTStttl reSAliJUon of forces depend
upon it ; and, in consequence thereof, numberless rules
and theorems directing men how to act, and explaining
phenomena throughout the Mechanics and mathematical
Philosophy? And if, by considering this doctrine of
force, men arrive at the knowledge of many inventions
in Mechanics, and are taught to frame engines, by means
of which things difficult and otherwise impossible may be
performed ; and if the same doctrine which is so beneficial
here below serveth also as a key to discover the nature

of the celestial mntinng— ghgll \uf deny -that if ie nf ncp^

■nsfinrt if! pa nf fnri-p ? Or that which we admit with
regard to force, upon what pretence can we deny con-
cerning ^a«? If there are queries, disputes, perplexities,
diversity of notions and opinions about the one, so there
are about the other also : if_we can form no precise distinct
idea^of the one, so neither can we of the other. Ought
we not therefore, by a parity of reason, to_CQDclude_there
may be divers true and useful propositions concerning
tlie one as well as the other? And thsA grace may be an
objecT oTbur faith, and influence our life and actions, as

excluding the phenomena
1 sense ; which form our
real ideas of ' body,

his about force and gract is
sed in Bishop Browne's
f Aimlogv, pp. 515 lo the

332 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

a principle destructive of e\nl habits and productive rf
good ones, although we cannot attain a distinct idea of it,
separate or abstracted from God the author, from man Ae
subject, and from virtue and piety its effects * ?

8. Shall we not admit the same method of arguing the
same rules of logic, reason, and good sense, to obtain in
things spiritual and things corporeal, in faith and science?
and shall we not use the same candour, and make die
same allowances, in examining the revelations of God and
the inventions of men ? For aught I see, that philosopher
cannot be free from bias and prejudice, or be said to we^
things in an equal balance, who fil7a|1 maintajni the doc trine
o f force and rejec t ^ that of gr ace; who shall acSit the
aEstracT idea ol aTriangle, an? at the same time ridicule
the Holy Trinity*. But, however partial or prejudiced
other minute philosophers might be, you have laid down
for a maxim, that the same logic which obtains in other
matters must be admitted in religion.

Lys, I think, Alciphron, it would be more prudent to
abide by the way of wit and humour than thus to tiy
religion by the dry test of reason and logic.

Ale. Fear not : by all the rules of right reason, it is
absolutely impossible that any mystery, and least of all
/^e Trinity, should really be the object of man's faith.

Euph. I do not wonder you thought so, as lo ng_asjou
4 ^maintained that no man could assent to a proposition
without perceiving or framing in his miiid distinct ideas
^ marked by the terms of it. But, alttroogh terms are
-signs, yet, having granted that those signs may hcLsigni^
.fi cant th ough they sho uld not su ggest ideas represented
byTHem, provided they g^rve t^ regulate and influence

* If it is true that (in the end) ow-
nta exeunt in mysteria ; that neither
the world presented to the senses,
nor the spiritual world, on which

J: former depends, can be at last
ly stripp ed of all tEat is mys-
ipus to imagination," It then Tol-
iows that the mysteries embedded
in Christianity form no more an ai-
solute objection to its divinity than
the mysteries in physical nature

are a bar to faith in physical
science, or ordinary experience.
This is the argument which per-
vades the preceding and following
applications of the general principle
that is implied.

^ The mystery of Triune Deity
is Euphranor's next example of
ultimate mystery inexplicable for
man, in religion as in j^Hjsical
nature.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

333

-our wills, passions, and conduct, you have consequently
granted that the mind of man may assent to propositions
^containing such terms, when it is so dij^ctgd or affected
■by them; notwithstanding it should not perceive distmcT'
■ ideas marked by those terms. Whence it seems to follow,
|lhat a man may believe the doctrine of the Trinity, if he
inds it revealed in Holy Scripture that the Father, the
Jon, and the Holy Ghost, are God, and that there is but
(One God, although he doth not frame in his mind any
Bbstract or distinct ideas of trinity, substance, or person-
Rlity; provided that this doctrine of a Creator, Redeemer,
fand Sanctifier makes proper impressions on his mind,
producing therein love, hope, gratitude, and obedTence,
and thereby becomes- a li vely op o rati ve-pdndgle, influenc-
ing his life and actions, agreeably to that notion of saving
faith which is required in a Christian. This, I say,
whether right or wrong, seems to follow from your own
principles and concessions. But, for further satisfaction,
it may not be amiss to inquire whether there be anything
parallel to this Christian faith in the minute philosophy.
Suppose a fine gentleman or iady of fashion, who are too
much employed to think for themselves, and are only free-
thinkers at second-hand, have the advantage of being
betimes initiated in the principles of your sect, by con-
versing with men of depth and genius, who have often
declared it to be their opinion, the world is governed
. either by fate or by chance, it matters not which ; will you
ideny it possible for such persons to yield their assent to
either of these-propositions ?
Ak. I will not.
Euph. And may not such an assent be properly called

IfiU'f/i ? - — — ~

. It may.

Euph. And yet it is possible those disciples of the
minute philosophy may not dive so deep as to be able
to frame any abstract, or precise, or any determinate idea
Whatsoever, either of fate or of chance ?
A/c. This too I grant.

Euph. So that, according to you, this same gentleman or
lady may be said to believe or have faith where they have
not ideas?
A/c. They maj'.

334 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

Euph. And may not this faith or persuasion produce
real effects, and shew itsel f in the ^cgndnrt nnd frnipf^
their lives, freeing thenTfrom the fears of superstition, and
giving them a true relish of the world, with a noble
indolence or indifference about what comes after?

Ale, It may.

Eiuph, And may not Christians, with equaLxeason, be

-•^lowedjto believe the Divinity^ of our Saviour, or that in

HiitrGod and man make one Person, and be v erilyj er-

suaded t hereof^ so far as for such faith or belief tolSecorae

a real principle of life and conduct ? inasmuch as, by

virtue of such persuasion, they submit to His government,

believe His doctrine, and practise His precepts ; a lthoug h

they frame no abstract idea of the union between tRe

Divine and human nature, nor may be able to clear^ujLtlie.

notion oip^tson to the contentment of a minute philosopher?

^. To me it seems evident that if none but those who had

nicely examined, and could themselves explain, the

principle-of-Jndiyiduation in man, or untie the knots and

answer the objections which may be raised even about

,^ human personal-identity, would require of us to explain

"$ the Dtvine" mysteries, we should not be oflen called upon

^^ for a clear and distinct idea of person in relation to the

Trinity, nor would the difficulties on that head be often

objected to our faith.

Ale, Methinks, there is no such mystery in J>ersok4
identtfy.

Euph. Pray, in what do you take it to consist ?

Ale, In consciousness ^

Euph. Whatever is possible may be supposed ?

Ale, It may.

Euph. We will suppose now (which is possible in the
nature of things, and reported to be fact) that a person,
through some violent accident or distemper, should fall
into such a total oblivion as to lose all consciousness of
his past life and former ideas. I ask, is he not s till the
same^ierson ?

Ale. He is the same man, but not the same person.
Indeed you ought not to suppose that a person loseth its
former consciousness, for this is impossible, though a man

* So Locke in his Essay^ Bk, II. ch. 27, which compare with what
follows ; also ch. i« §§ 9-19.

THE SEVEXTH DIALOGUE

335

perhaps may; but then he becomes another person. In
the same person, it must be owned, some old ideas maybe
lost, and some new ones got ; but a total change is incon-
sistent with identity of person.

Euph. Let us then suppose that a person hath ideas and
is conscious during a certain space of time, which we will
divide into three equal parts, whereof the later terms are
marked by the letters A, B, C. In the first part of time,
the person gets a certain number of ideas, which are retained
in A : during the second part of time, he retains one-half
of his old ideaSj and loseth the other half, in place of which
he acquires as many new ones : so that in B his ideas are
half old and half new. And in the third part, we will
suppose him to lose the remainder of the ideas acquired in
the first, and to get new ones in their stead, which are
retained in C, together with those acquired in the second
part of time. Is this a possible fair supposition ?

Ale. It is.

Euph. Upon these premises, I am tempted to think one
may demonstrate that personal identity doth not consist in
consciousness.

Ale. As how ?

Euph. You shall judge: but thus it seems to me. The
persons in A and B are the same, being conscious of
common ideas by supposition. The person in B is (for the
same reason) one and the same with the person in C,
Therefore, the person in A is the same with the person in
C, by that undoubted axiom, Ouw conveniunl uiti tertio
conveniunt inter se. But the person in C hath no idea -
in common with the person in A. TJier gfore persnp;^ !
iden tity dpth n ot consist in .consciousness. What do you
think, Alciphron, is not this a plain inference?

Ale. I tell you what I think : you will never assist my
faith, by puzzling my knowledge,

9. Euph. There is, if I mistake iiotr-a-pFfteticaL iaith or
asseiitj^which.sheweth itself_in the B;i]Land_aclions of a
man, although his understanding may not be furnished
With those abstract, precise, distinct ideas, which, whatever
a philosopher may pretend, are acknowledged to be above
the talents of common men ; among whom, nevertheless,
may be found, even according to your own concession.

336 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

many instances o f such practical faith^ in ot her matters
which do hof c oncern religi on. What should hinder,
t herefo re, but that doctrinesjelating to heavenly mysteries
might Jbe taught, in this saving sense, to vulgar minds,
which you may well think incapable of all teaching and
faith, in the sense you suppose?

Which mistaken sense, said Cnte, has given occasion to
much profane and misapplied raillery. But all this may
very justly be retorted on the minute philosophers them-
selves, who confound Scholasticism with Christianity, and
impute to other men those perplexities, chimeras, and
inconsistent ideas which are often the workmanship ot
their own brains, and proceed from their own wrong way
of thinking. Who doth not see that such an ideal ab-
stracted faith is never thought of by the bulk of Christians,
husbandmen, for instance, artisans, or servants ? Or what
footsteps are there in the Holy Scripture to make us think
that the wiredrawing of abstract ideas was a task enjoined
either Jews or Christians? Is there anything in the law
or the prophets, the evangelists or apostles, that looks like
it ? Every one whose understanding is not perverted by
science falsely so-called may see the saving faith of Chris-
tians is quite of another kind, a vital operative principle,
productive of charity and obedience ^

Ale, What are we to think then of the disputes and
decisions of the famous Council of Nice, and so many
subsequent Councils? What was the intention of those
venerable Fathers — the homoousians and the homoiousiansl
Why did they disturb themselves and the world with hard
words, and subtle controversies ?

Cri, Whatever their intention was, it could not be to
beget nice abstracted ideas of mysteries in the minds of
common Christians, this being evidently impossible. Nor
doth it appear that the bulk of Christian men did in those
days think it any part of their duty to lay aside the words,
shut their eyes, and frame those abstract ideas ; any more
than men now do of force, time, number, or several other
things, about which they nevertheless believe, know, argue,
and disputed To me it seems that, whatever was the

^ Cf. Berkeley*s Sermon before been said of the mysteries that are
the S, P, G. (for man) involved in unbeginning

^ * Si non rogas intelligo ; ' as has and unending duration.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

337

source of these controversies, and howsoever they were
managed, wherein human infirmity must be supposed to
have had its share, the main end was not, on either side,
to convey precise positive ideas to the minds of men, by
the use of those contested terms, but rather a negative
sense, tending to exclude Polytheism on the one hand,
and Sabellianism on the other'.

A/c. But what_^hall__we_sa>L-o£-so-many_lesrned and
tn£en[ous_diyine3, who from time to time have obliged
the world with new explications of mysteries, who, having
themselves professedly laboured to acquire accurate ideas,
would recommend their discoveries and speculations to
others for articles of faith ?

Cri. To all such innovators in religion I would say with
Jerome, 'Why after so many centuries do you pretend to ,
teach us what was untaught before? why explain whafj
neither Peter nor Paul thought necessaryto be explained"?' \.
And it must be owned that the explication of mysteries
in divinitj^p allowing the attempt as fruitless as the pursuit
of the philosophers stone in chemistry or the perpetual
ihotion in mechanics, is no more than they chargeable on
the profession itself, but only on the wrongheaded pro-
fessors of it.

lo. It seems, that what hath been now said may be
applied to other mysteries of our religion. Original sin,
for instance, a man may find it impossible to form an idea
of in abstract, or of the manner of its transmission : and
yet the beUef thereof may produce in his mind a salutary
sense of his own unworthmess, and the goodness of his
Redeemer; from whence may follow good habits, and
from them good actions, the genuine eflects of faith ; which,
considered in its true light, is a thing neither repugnant
nor incomprehensible, as some men would persuade us,
but suited even to vulgar capacides ; placed in the will
and afiections rather than in the understanding, and pro-
ducing holy lives rather than subtle theories. Faith, I say, '•
is nofan mdbrent perception, tut an operative persuasion
of mind, which ever worketh some suitable action, dis-

* [Vid. Bozomen, Lib. Il.cap. 8.]

_ AUTHQB.

» [Hieronym, (Jerome) Wrf Paw-

,%..<.cvU

338 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

position, or emotion in those who have it ; as it were easy
to prove and illustrate by innumerable instances taken
from human affairs. And, indeed, while the Christian
religion is considered an institution fitted to ordinary
minds, rather than to the nicer talents, whether improved
or puzzled, of speculative men ; and our notions about
faith are accordingly taken from the commerce of the
world, and practice of mankind, rather than from the
peculiar systems of refiners ; it will, Lthink, be no diffic ult
matter to conceive and justify the meanmg and use of our
belieFof mysteries, against th^ itiDSt cunfidenl Asjei l i u i i a -^
and objections of the minute philosophers ; who are easily
to be caught in those very snares which they have spun
and spread for others. And that humour of controversy,
the mother and nurse of heresies, would doubtless very
much abate, if it was considered that things are to be
rated, not by colour, shape, or stamp, so truly as by the
weight. If the moment of opinions had been by some
litigious divines made the measure of their zeal, it flight
have spared much trouble both to themselves and others.
Certainly one that takes his notions of faith, opinion, and
assent from common sense, and common use, and has
maturely weighed the nature of signs and language, will
not be so apt to controvert the wording of a mystery, or
to break the peace of the church, for the sake of retaining
or rejecting a term.

P But, to convince you by a plain i nstance o f the effica-
cious necessary use of faith without ideas : w e Will auppust
a man ot the world, a mmute philosopher, prodigal and
rapacious, one of large appetites and narrow circumstances,
who shall have it in his power at once to seize upon a great
fortune by one villanous act, a single breach of trust,
which he can commit with impunity and secretly. Is it not
natural to suppose him arguing in this manner ? All man-
kind in their senses pursue their interest. The interests
of the present life are either of mind, body, or fortune.
If I commit this fault my mind will be easy (having nought
to fear here or hereafter); my bodily pleasure will be
multiplied; and my fortune enlarged ^ Suppose now,
one of your refined theorists talks to him about the

' This paragraph was introduced in the second edition.
^ Cf. Dial. II.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

339

harmony of mind and affections, inward worth, truth of
character, in one word, the beauty of virtue ; which is
the only interest he can propose to turn the scale against
all other secular interests and sensual pleasures — would it
not, think you, be a vain attempt'? ^Isay, in such a juncture
what can the most plausible and refined- philosophy of
your sect offer to dissuade such a man from his purpose,
more than assuring him that the abstracted delight of" the
mind, the enjoyments of an interior moral sense, the ro
KoioV, are what constitute his true interest? And what
efi£ct_can this have on a mind callous to ali these things,
and^at the same time strongly affected with a sense of
corporeal pleasures, and the outward interest, ornaments,
and conveniences of life? Whereas that very man, do hut
produce in him a sincere belief of a Future State, although
it be a mystery, although it be what eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to
conceive, he shall, nevertheless, by virtue of such belief,
be withheld from executing his wicked project : and that
for reasons which all men can comprehend, though nobody
can be the object of them. I will allow the points insisted
on by your refined moralists to be as lovely and excellent
as you please to a reasonable, reflecting, philosophical
mind. But 1 will venture to say that, as the world goes, •
few, very few, will be influenced by them ". We see, there-
fore, the necessary use, as well as the powerful effects of
faith, even where we have not idf.as^\

II. Ale. It seems, Euphranor, you would persuade me
into an opinion, that there is nothing so singularly absurd
as we are apt to think in the belief of mysteries ; and that
a man need not renounce his reason to maintain his
reljgien. " But, if this were true, how comes it to pass that,
in proportion as men abound in knowledge, they dwindle
in faith ?

Euph. O Alciphron, I have learned from you that there
is nothing like going to the bottom of things, and analysing

' Cf. Dial. III. he shall forfeit eternal happiness,

' The second edition here con- or incur eternal misery ; and this

tains [he following sentence : — On alone may suffice to turn the scale.

the other hand, possess him with ' Cf. Dial. IV.

a ihoroligh belief or persuasion that

Z 3

340 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

them into their first principles. I shall therefore make an
essay of this method, for clearing up the nature of faith ;
with what success, I shall leave you to determine ; for
I dare not pronounce myself, on my own judgment,
whether it be right or wrong: but thus it seems to me.
The objections made to faith are by. no m oans an uflt ct
of knowledge, but proceed rather from an ignorance of
what knowledge is ; which ignorance may possibly be
found even in those who pass for masters of this or that
particular branch of knowledge. S cience a nd faith agree
in this, that they both imply an assent of. the "mind : and,
as the nature of the first is most clear and evident, it should
be first considered in order to cast a light on the other.
To trace things from their original, it seems that the human
mind, naturally furnished with the ideas of things particular
and concrete, and being designed, not for the bare in-
£ tuition ^ of ideas, but for action and operation about them,

i ' and pursuing her own happiness therein, s tands in ne ed

i- of certain general rules or theorems to direct h«t.ii2SJ^
tions in this pursuit ; the suppljdng which w ant is tliej i^,
original, reasonable end of Studying~tHe'arts and sciences.

fy Now, these rules being general, it follows that they are

not to be obtained by the mere consideration * of the
original ideas, or particular things, but by the means of
marks and signs ; which, being so far forth universal,
become the immediate instruments and materials of science.
It is not, therefore, by mere contemplation of particular
thingSf and much less of their aAs/PSi^ general ideas, that
the mmd makes her progress, but by an apposite choice
and ski lful m anagement of signs: — for instance, /orr^ and
number, taken in concrete," "^th their adjuncts, subjects,
and signs, are what every one knows ; and considered in
abstract, so as making precise ideas of theinselves, tHey
are what nobody can comprehend. That their abstrac t
nature, therefore, is not the foundation of s cience is plain :
and that barely considering their ideas in concrete, is not
the method to advance in the respective sciences is what
every one that reflects may see: nothing being more
evident than that one who can neither write nor read, in

^ Note that Berkeley distinguishes and signs' in their application to
an * intuition * of a * particular thing/ an indefinite number of * particular
and a * consideration ' of 'marks things.*

''. > 1

■ THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 34T ^H

I'cominoii use understands the meaning of numeral words, ^^H

as well as the best philosopher or mathematician, ^^H

12. But here lies the difference : the one who under- ^^H

stands the notation of numbers, by means thereof is able ^^H

to express Briefly and distinctly all the variety and degrees ^^H

of number, and to perform with ease and dispatch several ^^H

arithmetical operations by the help of general rules. Of ^^H

all which operations as the use in human life isvery ^^H

gvident,.so it is no less evident that the performing tKem ^^M

depends ori_the aptness of the notatioii. If we suppose ^^|

rude mankind without the use of language, it may be ^^M

presumed they would be ignorant of arithmetic. But the ^^H

use of names, by the repetition whereof in a certain order ^^M

they might express endless degrees of number, would be ^^H

the Hrst step towards that science. The next step would ^^H

be, to devise proper marks of a permanent nature, and ^^^|

visible to the eye, the kind and order whereof must be ^^H

chosen with judgment, and accommodated to the names. ^^^|

Which marking or notation would, in proportion as it was ^^H

apt and regular, facilitate the invention and application of ^^^|

general rules to assist the mind in reasoning and judging, ^^H

in^extending, recording, and communicating its Imovriedge ^^H

a bout numbers : in which theory and operations, the mind ^^H

is nnmediately occupied about the signs or notes, by j^^H

mediation of which it is directed to act about things, or ./^^H

number in concrete (as the logicians call it) without ever /f ^^H

considering the simple, abstract, intellectual, general idea / ^^^|
of number. ['The signs indeed do in their use imply' vJ^^H

r^ations or proportions of things : but these relations y ^aH

are not abstract general ideas, bei.ng founded in particular ( \ rtC"^H

thingSr and~uot making of themselves distinct ideas to. the V""^ .yt

mind exclusive of the particular ideas and the signs.] ^ ^ ^^^a

rTrnagine one need not think much to be convinced that ^V'^""^

theorems, is altogether conversant about the artificial use ^' -^^
of signs, names, and characters. These names and char- |- ■
acters are universal, inasmuch as they are signs. The

' This

important sentence

was

added in

Ihe Ihi

ird edition.

modifxes the cxtrei

nc nominali?

imof

Berkeley':

J former

language about

^r and express bysigns.

342 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

names are referred to things, and the characters to names,
and both to operation. The names being few, and pro-
ceeding by a certain analogy, the characters will be more
useful, the simpler they are, and the more aptly they
express this analogy. Hence the old notation by letters
was more useful than words written at length. And the
modern notation by figures, expressing the progression or
analogy of the names by their simple places, is much pre-
ferable to that, for ease and expedition ; as the invention
of algebraical symbols is to this, for extensive and general
use*. As arithmetic and algebra are sciences of great
clearness, certainty, and extent, which are immediately
conversant about signs, upon the skilful use and manage-
ment whereof they entirely depend, so a little attention to
them may possibly help us to judge of the progress of the
mind in other sciences; which, though differing in nature,
design, and object, may yet agree in the general methods
of proof and inquiry.

13. If I mistake not, all sciences, so far as they are
universal and demonstrable by human reason, will be
found convg£§ant about signs as their imme diate obj ect,
though these in the application are referred to things I
The reason whereof is not difficult to conceive. For, as
the mind is better acquainted with' some sort of objects,
which are earlier suggested to it, strike it more sensibly,
or are more easily comprehended than others, it is naturally
led to substitute those objects for such as are more subtile,
fleeting, or difficult to conceive. Nothing, I say, is more
natural, than to make the things we know a step towards
those we do not know ; and to explain and represent things
less familiar by others which are more so. Now, it is
certain we imagine before we reflect, and we perceive by
sense before we imagine, and of all our sensesTHe^sigHt'
is the most clear, distinct, various, agreeable, and compre-
hensive. Hence it is natur^il to assist the intellect by
the imagination, the imagination by sense, and the other
senses by "sight. Hence figures, metaphors, and types. We

' Cf. Berkeley's Arithnteiica and that are immanent in nature.

Miscellanea Maihemaiica, published ' Cf. New Theory of Vision—

in 1707. * Dedication.'

^ For they represent relations

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

343

illustrate spiritual things by corporeal; we substitute
sounds for thoughts, and written letters for sounds ; em-
blems, s3Tiibols, and hieroglyphics, for things too obscure
to strike, and too various or too fleeting to be retained.
We substitute things imaginable for things intelligible,
sensible things for imaginable, smaller things for those
that are too great to be comprehended easily, and greater
things for such as are too small to be discerned distinctly,
present things for absent, permanent for perishing, and
visible for invisible. Hence the use of models and dia-
grams. Hence right lines are substituted for time, velocity,
and other things of very different natures. Hence we
speak of spirits in a figurative style, expressing the opera-
tions of the mind by allusions and terms borrowed from
sensible things, such as apprehend, conceive, reflect, discourse,
and such-like : and hence those allegories which illustrate
things intellectual by visions exhibited to the fancy. Plato,
for instance, represents the mind presiding in her vehicle
by the driver of a winged chariot, which sometimes moults
and droops : and is drawn by two horses, the one good
and of a good race, the other of a contrary kind ; sym-
bolically expressing the tendency of the mind towards the
Divinity, as she soars or is borne aloft by two instincts
like wings, the one in the Intellect towards truth, the other
in the Will towards excellence, which instincts moult or
are weakened by sensual inclinations ; expressing also her
alternate elevations and depressions, the struggles between
reason and appetite, like horses that go an unequal pace,
or draw different ways, embarrassing the soul in her pro-
gress to perfection '. I am inclined to think the doctrine
of Signs a point of great importance, and general extept,
which, if duly considered, would cast no small fight upon
Things, and afford a just and genuine solution of many
diffi^ultiesT "~ - — - -

* See Socrates in the Phadnn
of Plato. Berkeley shews more
affinity with Plato now than in his
juvenile works.

'' In Locke's Essay, Bk. IV. ch. ai,
what he calls ' the doctrineof Signs'
(e-rjIuvuTiirii) is represented as one
of the ' three great provinces of the

intellectual world'; the other two
being concerned, one of them
with outward Nature {qniaiiefi), and
the other with human Conduct
(wpojcTiiii). With Berkeley, in fact,
the whole sensible universe is a
system of interpretahle signs, with
their implied relations. '

344 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

-— Od^. Thus much, upon the whole, may be said of all
i^ignk: — that they do not always suggest ideas sigoifietLta.
th^Ttiind : that when they suggest ideas, they are not
genera! abstract ideas : that they have other uses besfdes"
h qrely .'^tandin^ for and,£sluhiting4deas^such as raising
proper cipoliens, producing certain d isposif ions or-habits
of mind, and directing our actions in pursuit of that-Ji^^-
ness which is the ultimate e nd and design, the primary
^spring and motive, tnat sets rational agents at -woiL* :
'' [' that signs may imply or suggest the relations of things ;
which relations, habitudes, or proportions as they cannot
be by us understood without the help of signs, so being
thereby expressed and corrected, they enable us to act
with regard to things :] that the true end of speech, reason,
science, faith, assent, in all its different degrees, is not
merely, or principally, or always, the imparting or acquiring
of ideas, but rather sometjiingj^ an active operative nature,
tending to a conceiv§d_gQod-r which may sometimes be
obtained, not only although the ideas marked are not
offered to the mind, but even althougHThere should be no
possibility of offering or exhibiting any such idea to the
mind ; for instance, the algebraic mark, which denotes
the root of a negative square, hath its use in logistic opera-
tions, although it be impossible to form an idea of any such
quantity. And what is true of algebraic signs is also true
of words or language ; modern algebra being in fact a more
short, apposite, and artificial sort of language, and it being
possible to express by words at length, though less con-
veniently, all the steps of an algebraical process'. And it
must be confessed that even the mathematical sciences
themselves, which above all others are reckoned the most
clear and certain, if they are considered, not as instru-
ments to direct our practice, but as speculations to employ
our curiosity, will be found to fall short in many instances
of those clear and distinct ideas, which, it seems, the
minute philosophers of this age, whether knowingly or

' Cf. Passive ObtdiiHce, sect. 5.
Accordingly in [he lliird Dialogue
he objects to the ' abstract beauty'
of virtue, apart from hope ot'happi-

mass of mankind to a virtuous life.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 345

ignorantly, expect and insist upon in the mysteries of
religion '.

15. Be the science or subject what it wiil, whensoevci

men quit particulars for generalities, th ings concrete for ^

ahstractions , whpn thi-y forsake practical views, and the

hen fhi-y forsake practical views, and the
of know l edge, [for barren speculation.^co^ -
anH ins trumem »-^s ultimate ends/ ap d

use ful purposes 01 k ^--o-,,

si dering nipana and ins tru mej.tj -j ^.^....1;
Ja Fniirin p ; to attain precJseTdeas which they"

suppose

indig -

rrUTiinaii'ly iinncvr d to all terms, th ey will be sure to
e mbarra^'^ ihpmgplvpn wifh difficulties aiid disputes . Such
are those which have sprung up in geometry about the
nature of the angle of contact, the doctrine of proportions,
of indivisibles, infinitesimals, and divers other points ; not-
withstanding all which, that science is very rightly esteemed
an excellent and useful one, and is really found to be so
in many occasions of human life, wherein it governs and
di rects the actions of men, so that by the aid or influence
thereof thOSe operations become just and accurate which
would otherwise be faulty and uncertain. And, from a
parity of reason, we should not conclude any other doc-
trines which govern, influence, or direct the mind of man
to be, any more than that, the less true or excellent,
because they afford matter of controversy, and useless
speculation to curious and licentious wits: particularly
t hose articles of our Christian faith, which, in proportio

as they are believed, persuade, and^ as they persuade ,
Tndypnrc thr ll'^pg 3"'^ artinns nt mVq, At tn thp ppr-
plexity of contradictions and abstracted notions, in all
parts whether of human science or Divine faith, cavillers
may equally object, and unwary persons incur, while the
Judicious avoid it. Xh cre is no need to depart from the
received rules of reasoning to justify the behet ot Chris-
tiaTisT And if any piou's~men think otherwise, it may be
supposed an effect, not of religion, or of reason, but only
of human weakness. If this age be singularly productive
of infidels, 1 shall not therefore conclude it to be more
knowing, but only more presuming, than former ages:
and their conceit, I doubt, is not the effect of consideration.

' Berkeley's Analyst ar
Df/oict of F,-^//.t.>ti',g i» .
matks, published two yean

346 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

To me it seems that the more thoroughly and extensively
any man shall consider and scan the principles, objects,
and methods of proceeding in arts and sciences, the more
he will be convinced there is no weight in those plausible
objections that are made against the mysteries of faith;
which it will be no difficult matter for him. to maintain or
justify in the received method of arguing, on the common
principles of logic, and by numberless avowed parallel
cases, throughout the several branches of human know-
ledge, in all which the supposition of abstract ideas creates
the same difficulties.

[* Ale. According to this doctrine, all points may be alike
maintained. There will be nothing absurd in Popery, not
even transubstantiation.

Cri. Pardon me. This doctrine ju stifies no article of
fa ith which is not contained in Scripture, pPwhicT Tis
rep ugnant to human reason^ which implies a contradiction,
or which leads to idolatry or wickedness of any kind— all
which is very different from our not having a distinct or
an abstract idea of a point.]

1 6. Ale, I will allow, Euphranor, this reasoning of yours
to have all the force you meant it should have. I freely
own there may be mysteries ; that we may believe where
we do not understand ; and that faith may be of use,
although its object is not distinctly apprelT^ded. In a
word, I grant there may be faith and mysteries in other
things, but not in religion : and that for this plain reason,
because it is absurd to suppose there should be any
such thing as religion; and, if there be no religion, it
follows there cannot be religious faith or mysteries.
Religion, it is evident, implies the worship of a God,
which worship supposeth rewards and punishments, which
suppose merits and demerits, actions good and evil, and
these suppose human liberty '\ a thing impossible : and,

was the subject of a celebrated
controversy between Collins and
Samuel Clarke, as it had previously
been between Clarke and Leibniz.
See also Cato's Letters (at first
subscribed Diogenes), and Jackson's
Defence of Liberty (1725).

Clarke alleges as parallel, the
evidence that lue are moral agents,

' This within brackets appeared
first in the second edition.

^ What follows (sect. 16-19),
regarding free-will or moral agency
in man, might have been sug-
gested by the objections of Hobbes
and Spinoza, but probably by the
Inquiry concerning Human Liberty
(17 15) of Anthony Collins. It

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

347

consequently, religion, a thing built thereon, must be an
unreasonable absurd thing. There can be .no_jjttional
hopes or fears where there is no guilt ; nor any guilt
where there is nothing done biit what unavoidably follows
from the structure of the world and th e laws of m otion.
C orporeal objects strike on the organs ot sense, whence
eiTsues a vibration in the~nerves, which, being comrauni-
cated to the soul or anima! spirit in the brain or root of
the nerves, produceth therein that motion called volition :
and this produceth a new determination in the spirits,
causing them to flow into such nerves as must necessarily
by the laws of mechanism produce such certain actions.
This being the case, it follows that those things which
vulgarly pass for human actions are to be esteemed
^ " Jalselv

nlgar'y 1 __ _,__,_^_^

mec liainc al, and that they are falsely ascr ibed to a tree
There is therefore no foundation for praise or

Blanie, fear or hope, reward or punishment; nor conse-
quently for religion, which, as I observed before, is built
upon and supposeth those things.

Euph. You imagine, Alciphron, if 1 rightly understand
you, that man is a sort of organ played on by outward
objects, which, according to the different shape and tex-
ture of the nerves, produce diff"erent motions and effects
therein.

Ak, Man may, indeed, be fitly compared to an organ:
but a puppet is the very thing. You must know that
certain particles, issuing forth in right lines from all
sensible objects, compose so many rays, or filaments,
which drive, draw, and actuate every part of the soul
and body oi^ man, just as threads or wires do the joints
of that little wooden machine vulgarly called Rtiu^^et:
with this only difference, that the latter are gros^anJ
visible to common eyes, whereas the former are too fine
and subtle to be discerned by any but a sagacious free-
thinker. This admirably accounts for all those operations
which we have been taught to ascribe to a thinking principle
within us.

Eitph. This is an ingenious thought, and must be of
great use in freeing men from all anxiety about moral
notions; as it transfers the principle of action from the

and the evidence Ihat the sensible

VI.J

348 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

human soul to things outward and foreign '. But I have
my scruples about it. For you suppose the mind in
a literal sense to be moved, and its valitigns to be mere
motions. Now, if another should affirm, as__it js not
impossib le some or other may, that the soul is incorporeal,
ana that" motion is one thing and volition anoth"er*, I would
fain know how you could -laake-youF point clear to such
a one. It must be owned very clear to those who admit
the soul to be corporeal, and all her acts to be but so
many motions. Upon this supposition, indeed, the light
wherein you place human nature is no less true than it is
fine and new. But, let a ny^one deny this sup p osition ,
which is easily done, 'an^d'the whole superstructure falls
to the ground. If wc grant the above-mentioned points,
T^will not deny a fatal necessity must ensue. But I see no
reason for granting them. On the contrary, it seems
plain that motion and thought are two things as really
and as manifestly distinct as a triangle and a sound".
It seems, therefore, that, in order to prove the necessity
of human actions, you suppose what wants proof as much
as the very point to be proved.

17. Ale, But, supposing the mind incorporeal, I shall,
nevertheless, be able to prove ray point. Not to amuse
you with far-fetched arguments, 1 shall only desire you
to look into your own breast and observe how things pass
there, when an object offers itself to the mind. First, the
understanding considers it : in the next place, the judgment
decrees about it, as a thing to be chosen or rejected, to be
omitted or done, in this or that manner : and this decree
of the judgment doth necessarily determine the will, whose
office is merely to execute what is ordained by another
faculty : consequently, there is no such thing as freedom
of the will. For, that which is necessary cannot be free.
In freedom there should be an indifference to either side
of the question, 3 power to act_ or ""it to art, with nut
prescription or contr olj-and wTthout this indiSei^nce and
■ this power, it is evident the will cannot be free. But it is
no less evident that the will is not indifferent in its actio ns,
b eing absolutely determined and governed by the i u dgment.

' It issues cither in an unmoral Pantheism, or an unmoral Atheism.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

349

Now, whatever moves the judgment, whether the greatest
present uneasiness, or the greatest apparent good, or
whatever else it be, it is all one to the point in hand.
The will, being ever concluded and controlled by the
judgment, is in all cases alike under necessity. There is,
indeed, throughout the whole of human nature, nothing
like a principle of freedom, every faculty being determined
in all its acts by something foreign to it. The under-
standing, for instance, cannot alter its idea, but must
necessarily see it such as it presents itself. The appe-
tites by a natural necessity are carried towards their
respective objects. Reason cannot infer indiiFere ntly
an ything fi-om anything, but is limited by ttie natu re and
conriexiQ£SflthiiigSi__aiLd the eternal rules ol reaso ni n g.
And, as this is confessedly the case of all other faculties,
so it equally holds with respect to the will itself, as hath
been already shewn. And, if we may credit the divine
Characteriser of our times, this above all others must
be allowed the most slavish faculty. ' dippetite (saith that
noble writer '), which is elder brother to Reason, being
the lad of stronger growth, is sure, on every contest, to
take the advantage of drawing an_to_his own side. And
Will, so highly boasted, is but at Fest a foot-ball or top
between these youngsters, who prove very unfortunately
matched ; till the youngest, instead of now and then
a kick or lash bestowed to little purpose, forsakes the
ball or top itself, and begins to lay about his elder
brother,'

Cri. This beautiful parable for style and manner might
equal those of a known English writer in low life, renowned
for allegory^, were it not a little incorrect, making the
weaker lad find his account in laying about the stronger.

Ale. This is helped up by supposing the stronger lad
the greater coward. But, be that as it will, so far as it
relates to the point in hand, this is a clear state of the case.

The same point may be also proved from the prescience
of God. That which is certainly foreknown will certainly
be. And what is certain is necessary. And necessary
actions cannot be the effect of free-will. Thus you have

350 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

this fundamental point of our free-thinking philosophy
demonstrated different ways.

Euph, Tell me, Alciphron, do you think it implies a
contradiction that God should make a man free?

Ale, I do not.

Euph, It is then possible there may be such a thing ?

Ale, This I do not denyT^

Euph, You can therefore conceive and suppose such a
free agent ?

Ale, Admitting that I can ; what then ?

Euph, Would not such a one think that he acted ?

Ale, He would.

Euph, And condemn himself for some actions, and
approve himself for others ?

Ale, This too I grant.

Euph, Would he not think he deserved — reward or
punishment?

Ale, He would.

Euph, And are not all these characters actually foun d in
4jianJ?

Ale, They are.

Euph, Tell me now, what other character of your
supposed free agent may not actually be found in man?
For, if there is none such, we must conclude that man
hath all the marks of a free agent.

Ale, Let me see ! I was certainly overseen in granting
it possible, even for Almighty power, to make such a thing
as a free agent. I wonder how I came to make such an
absurd concession, after what had been, as I observed
before, demonstrated so many different ways.

Euph, [* Certainly whatever is possible may be supp osed:
and whatever doth not imply a^ contradiction is p ossible to
an Infinite Po^ £il: therefore, if a natural agent implieth
no contradiction, such a being may be supposed. Perhaps,
from this supposition, I might infer man tp be free. But
I will not suppose him that free agent ; since, it seems, you
pretend to have demonstrated the contrary.] O Alciphron !
it is vulgarly observed that men judge of others by them-
selves. But, in judging of me by this rule, you may be
mistaken. Many things are plain to one of your sagacity,

^ The sentences within brackets were introduced in the second edition.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 351

which are not so to me, who am often bewildered rather
than enlightened by those very proofs that with you pass
for clear and evident. And, indeed, be the inference never
so just, yet, so long as the premises are not clear, I cannot
be thoroughly convinced. You must give me leave there-
fore to propose some questions, the solution of which may
perhaps shew what at present I am not able to discern.

Ale. I shall leave what hath been said with you, to
consider and ruminate upon. It is now time to set out
on our journey : there is, therefore, no room for a long
string of question and answer.

18, Eiiph, I shall then only beg leave, in a summary
manner, to make a remark or two on what you have
advanced. In the first place, I observe you take that for
granted which 1 cannot grant, when you assert whatever
is certain the same to be necessary. To me, certain and
necessary seem very different ; there being nothing in the
former notion that implies constraint, nor consequently
which may not consist with a man's being accountable for
his actions. If it is f p rpsppij that s uch an acti on shall be
done, may it n^tgigjThp_fjji-pgppn that i> shall 6e~an eftect
orTitima n cHoice^~and liberty j* In the next place, I ob-
serve that you very nicely abstract and distinguish the
actions of the mind, judgment, and will : that you make
use of such terms as power, faculty, act, determination,
indifference, freedom, necessity, and the like, as if they
stood fo r distinct abstract idea s : and that this supposition
Sgelns to ensnare ttie mind into the same perplexities and
errors, which, in all other instances, are observed to
attend the doctrine of abstraction. It is self-evident that
there is such a thing as motion : and yet there have been
found philosophers, who, by refined reasoning, would
undertake to prove that there was no such thing. Walking
before them was thought the proper way to confute those
ingenious men". It is no less evident that man is a free
agent : and though, by abstracted reasonings, you would
puzzle me, and seem to prove the contrary, yet, so long as

be fore* "'gas, inlelUgo, are human ways of
disposing of ultimate questions.

seen if it is an unconditioned a
' Solvilur aiuliulando and si'

352 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

I am conscious * of my own actions, this inw ar^ #»irM^n/*A
of plain fact will bear me up against all vour^ reasonin gs,
^ovvever subtle an d refined. The conftinhg plain points
by obscure ones may perhaps convince me of the ability of^
your philosophers, but never of their tenets. I cannot^
conceive why the acute Cratylus ' should suppose a pasie^r
of-acting in the appetite and reason, and none at all in th^
will ? Allowing, I say, the distinction of three such bein^
in the mind, I do not see how this could be true. But, if
I cannot abstract and distinguish so many beings in the
soul of man so accurately as you do, I do not find it
necessary; since it is evident to me, in the gross and
/^ concrete, that I am a free agent. Nor will it avail to
V^ say, the will is governed by the judgment, or determined
^ H , by the object, while, in every sudden common cause,
C^i/ '. ' I cannot d jscer n nor abstract the decree of the judgment
V from the command of the will ; while I know the sensible
object to be absolutely inert : and lastly, while I am
conscious that I am an active being, who can and da
determine myself. If I should suppose things spiritual
to be corporeal, or refine things actual and real into
general abstracted notions, or by metaphysical skill split
things simple and individual into manifold parts, I do not
know what may follow. But, if I take things as they are,
and ask any plain untutored man, whether he acts or
is free in this or that particular action, he readily assents,
and I as readily believe him — from what I find within.
And thus, by an induction o£ particulars, I may conclude
man to be a free agent, although I may be puzzled to
define or conceive a notion of freedom in general and
abstract. And if man be free, he is plainly accountable.
But, if you shall define, abstract, suppose, and it shall
follow that, according to your definitions, abstractions, and
suppositions, there can be no freedom in man, and you
shall thence infer that he is not accountable, I shall make
bold to depart from your metaphysical Abstracted Sense,
and appeal to the Common Sense of mankind.

^ Berkeley appeals throughout things. Is not conscience or moral

to consciousness and enlightened reason at the root of consciousness

common sense, on behalf both of in the former of those convictions?
moral agency in man, and of the * Shaftesbury,

dependent existence of sensible

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 353

' 19. If wc consider the notions that obtain in the world

of guilt and merit, praise and blame, accountable and
"Unaccountable, we shall find the common question, in
order Co applaud or censure, acquit or condemn a man,
is, whether he did such an ac t ion ? and whether he wa s
/linise^v/iis n he did it i* whicE comes to the same thing.
It should seem, tnereiore, that, in the ordinary commerce
of mankind, ^ny ppra on is esteemed accountable simply aa
he is an jigent. And, though you should tell me that m a n
"is inacilvel andThat the sensible objects act upon him, yet
my own experience assures me of the contrary. I know
I act : and yhal I a ct I am accountable fo r. And, if this
be true, the foundation of religion and morality remains
unshaken. Religion, I say, is concerned no further than
tliat man should be accountable : and this he is, according
to my sense, and the common sense of the world, if he acts;
and that he doth act is self-evident. The grounds, there-
fore, and ends of religion are secured, whether your
philosophic notion of liberty agrees with man's actions
or no ; and whether his actions are certain or contingent :
the question being not whether he did it with a free will ?
or what determined his will ? not, whether it was certain
or forelcnown that he would do it? but only, whether he
did it wil/ully'i as what must entitle him to the guilt or
merit of it.

Ale, But still, the question recurs, whether man be free ?

Euph. To determine this question, ought we not at first
to determine what is meant by the viord/reel

Ale. We ought,

Euph, In my opinion, a man is said to be free, so far
forth as he c an do what he will. Is this so, or is it not?

Ale. It seems so.

Euph. Man, therefore, a cting according to his will, is
to be accounted free.

Ale. This I admit to be true in the vulgar sense. But
a philosopher goes higher, and inquires whether man be
free to will?

Euph. That is, whether he can will as he wills? I know
not how philosophical it may be to ask this question, but
-it seems very unintelligible'. The notions of guilt and

354 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

merit, justice and reward, are in the minds of men ante-
cedent to all metaphysical disquisitions; and, according
to those received natural notions, it is not doubted that
man is accountable, that he acts, and is self-determined.

20. But a minute philosopher shall, in virtue of wrong
suppositions, confound things most evidently distinct;
body, for instance, with spirit; motion with volition;
certainty with necessity. And an abstractor or refiner
shall so analyse the most simple instantaneous act of the
mind as to distinguish therein divers faculties and ten-
dencies, principles and operations, causes and effects;
and, having abstracted, supposed, and reasoned upon
principles, gratuitous and obscure, he will conclude it is
no act at all ; and man no agent, but a puppet, or an organ
played on by outward objects, and his will a top or a
foot-ball. And this passeth for philosophy and free-
thinking. Perhaps this may be what it passeth for, but
it by no means seems a natural or just way of thinking.
To me it seems that, if we begin from things particular
and concrete, and thence proce ed tn prppf^r^l r^ntmns and
conclusions, there will be no difficulty in this jmatter.
But, if we b€; gih~wit h generahties, and la y ouF ^jjidation
in abstract ideas, we^'Shall find ourselves entangled and
lost in'atabyrinth of our own making. I need not observe,
what every one must see, the ridicule of proving man no
agent \ and yet pleading for free thought and action— of
setting up at once for advocates of liberty and necessity.
I have hastily thrown together these hints or remarks,
on what you call a fundamental article of the minute
philosophy, and your method of proving it, which seems
to furnish an admirable specimen of the sophistry of ab-
stract ideas. If, in this summary way, I have been more
dogmatical than became me, you must excuse what you

lutely, so that he only is responsible
for them, or are they merely t^rnis
in natural sequences? And it is
the practical fact of moral liberty,
not its metaphysical formula,
that Berkeley is anxious about
He rejects as absurd the hypo-
thesis that each volition is naturally

caused by a previous volition ; and
accepts the unique — fact of free
ac/iJE^t^^contained in our cojiccete
sptflt ual~ ex perience, and'mplied
in the" belief of responsibility on
which social life turns.

^ * agent ' — all real action being
voluntary.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE .355

occasioned, by declining a joint and leisurely examination
of the truth.

Ale. I think we have examined matters sufficiently.

Cri, To all you have said against human liberty, it is
a sufficient answer to observe that your arguments proceed
upon an erroneous supposition, either of the soul's being
corporeal, or of abstract ideas, p Not to mention other
gross mistakes and gratuitous prmciples. You might as
well suppose that the soul is red or blue as that it is solid.
You might as well make the will anything else as motion.^
And whatever you infer from such premises, which (to
speak in the softest manner) are neither proved nor
probable, I make no difficulty to reject. You distinguish
in all human actions between the last degree of the judg-
ment and the act of the will. You confound certainty
with necessity : you inquire, and your inquiry amounts
to an absurd question — whether man can will as he wills ?
As evidently true as is this identical proposition, so
evidently false must that way of thinking be which led you
to make a question of it. [* You say the appetites have by
necessity of nature a tendency towards their respective
objects. This we grant ; and withal that appetite, if you
please, is not free. But you go further, and tell us that
the understanding cannot alter its idea, nor infer indiffer-
ently anything from anything. What then ? Can we not
act at all, if we cannot alter the nature of objects, and may
we not be free in other things, if we are not at liberty to
make absurd inferences ?] You take for granted that the
mind is inactive, but that its ideas act upon it : as if the
contrary were not evident to every man of common sense,
who cannot but know that it is the mind which considers
its ideas, chooses, rejects, examines, deliberates, decrees,
in a word acts about them, and not they about it. Upon
the whole, your premises being obscure and false, the
fundamental point, which you pretend to demonstrate so
many different ways, proves neither sense nor truth in
any. J And, on the other hand, there is not need of much
inquiry to be convinced of two points, than which none
are more evident, more obvious, and more universally
admitted by men of all sorts, learned or unlearned, in all

* The passage within brackets was inserted in the second edition,
(except the part related to note 2) ^ Introduced in the ihird edition.

A a 2

356 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

times and places, to wit, that man acts, and is accountable
for his actions. Whatever abstracters, refiners, or men
prejudiced to a false hypothesis may pretend, it is, if
I mistake not, evident to every thinking man of common
sense, that human minds are so far from being engines
or footballs, acted upon and bandied about by corporeal
objects, without any inward principle of freedom or action,
that the only original true notions that we have oifreedom^
agenty or action are obtained by reflecting on ourselves,
and the operations of our own minds \ The singularity
and credulity of minute philosophers, who suffer them-
selves to be abused by the paralogisms of three or four
eminent patriarchs of infidelity in the last age, is, I think,
not to be matched ; there being no instance of bigoted
superstition the ringleaders whereof have been able to
seduce their followers more openly and more widely from
the plain dictates of nature and common sense.

21. Ale, It has been always an objection against the
discoverers of truth, that they depart from received
opinions. The character of singularity is a tax on free-
thinking : and as such we most willingly bear it, and glory
in it. A genuine philosopher is never modest in a false
sense, to the preferring authority before reason, or an old
and common opinion before a true one. Which false
modesty, as it discourages men from treading in untrodden
paths, or striking out new light, is, above all other
qualities, the greatest enemy to free-thinking.

Cri, Authority in disputable points will have its weight
with a judicious mind, which yet will follow evidence
wherever it leads. Without preferring, we may allow it
a good second to reason. Your gentlemen, therefore, of
the minute philosophy may spare a word of common-place
upon reason, and light, and discoveries. We are not
attached to authority against reason, nor afraid of un-
trodden paths that lead to truth, and are ready to follow
a new light when we are sure it is no tgnisfatuus. Reason
may oblige a man to believe against his inclinations : but

^ Berkeley virtually attributes volves reference of all change

our faith in originative causation in the universe to Will or Active

ultimately to our experience of Reason. Cf. De Motu, and Sins,

morally responsible agency. Ac- passim,
cordingly, the causal principle in-

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE

357

why should a man quit salutary notions for others not less
unreasonable than pernicious? Your schemes, and prin-
ciples, and boasted demonstrations have been at largfe
proposed and examined. You have shifted your notions,
successively retreated from one scheme to another, and in
the end renounced them all. Your objections have been
treated in the same manner, and with the same event.
If we except all that relates to the errors and faults of
particular persons, and difficulties which, from the nature
of things, we are not obliged to explain; it is surprising
to see, after such magnificent threats, how little remains
that can amount to a pertinent objection against the
Christian religion. What you have produced has been
tried by the fair test of reason ; and though you should
hope to prevail by ridicule when you cannot by reason,
yet, in the upshot, I apprehend you will find it imprac-
ticable to destroy all sense of religion. Make your country-
men ever so vicious, ignorant, and profane ; men will still
be disposed to look up to a Supreme Being, Religion,
right or wrong, will subsist in some shape or other, and
some worship there will surely be either of God or the
creature. As for your ridicule, can anything be more
ridiculous than to see the most unmeaning men of the age
set up for free-thinkers, men so strong in assertion, and
yet so weak in argument ; advocates for freedom intro-
ducing a fatality ; patriots trampling on the laws of their
country ; and pretenders to virtue destroying the motives
of it? Let any impartial man but cast an eye on the
opinions of the minute philosophers, and thensay if any-
thing can be more ridiculous than to believe sucn things
and at the same time laugh at credulity.

22, Lys. Say what you will, we have the laughers on
our side ; and as for your reasoning 1 take it to be another
name for sophistry,

Cri. And I suppose by the same rule you take your own
sophisms for arguments. To speak plainly, I know no
sort of sophism that is not employed by minute philosophers
against religion. They are guilty of a petilio principU, in
taking for granted that we believe contradictions; of non
causa pro causa, in affirming that uncharitable feuds and
discords are the effects of Christianity; oUgiiornlio clcuchi,

358 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

in expecting demonstrations where we pretend only to
faith. If I were not afraid to offend the delicacy of polite
ears, nothing were easier than to assign instances of every
kind of sophism, which would shew how skilful your own
philosophers are in the practice of that sophistry you
impute to others.

Euph, For my own part, if sophistry be the art or
faculty of deceiving other men, I must acquit these gentle-
men of it. They seem to have led me a progress through
atheism, libertinism, enthusiasm, fatalism, not to convince
me of the truth of any of them, so much as to confirm me
in my own way of thinking. They have exposed their
fairy ware not to cheat but divert us. As I know them
to be professed masters of ridicule, so in a serious sense
I know not what to make of them.

Ale, You do not know what to make of us ! I should
be sorry you did. He must be a superficial philosopher
that is soon fathomed.

23. Crt, The ambiguous character is, it seems, the sure
way to fame and esteem in the learned world, as it stands
constituted at present. When the ingenious reader is at
a loss to determine whether his author be atheist or deist
or polytheist, stoic or epicurean, sceptic or dogmatist,
infidel or enthusiast, in jest or in earnest, he concludes
him without hesitation to be enigmatical and profound.
In fact, it is true of the most admired writers of the age,
that no man alive can tell what to make of them, or what
they would be at.

Ale. We have among us moles that dig deep under
ground, and eagles that soar out of sight. We can act all
parts and become all opinions, putting them on or off with
great freedom of wit and humour.

Euph. It seems then you are a pair of inscrutable,
unfathomable, fashionable philosophers.

Lys. It cannot be denied.

Euph. But, I remember, you set out with an open dog-
matical air, and talked of plain principles, and evident
reasoning, promised to make things as clear as noonday,
to extirpate wrong notions and plant right in their stead.
Soon after, you began to recede from your first notions,
and adopt others ; you advanced one while and retreated

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 359

another, yielded and retracted, said and unsaid. And
after having followed you through so many untrodden
paths and intricate mazes I find myself never the nearer.

Ale, Did we not tell you the gentlemen of our sect are
great proficients in raillery ?

Euph. But, methinks, it is a vain attempt for a plain
man of any settled belief or principles, to engage with
such slippery, fugitive, changeable philosophers. It seems
as if a man should stand still in the same place, while his
adversary chooses and changes his situation, has full range
and liberty to traverse the field, and attack him on all
sides and in all shapes, from a nearer or further distance,
on horseback or on foot, in light or heavy armour, in close
fight or with missive weapons.

Ale, It must be owned, a gentleman hath great advantage
over a strait-laced pedant or bigot.

Euph. But, after all, what am I the better for the con-
versation of two such knowing gentlemen ? I hoped to
have unlearned my errors, and to have learned truths
from you, but, to my great disappointment, I do not find
that I am either untaught or taught.

Ale. To unteach men their prejudices is a difficult task ;
and this must first be done, before we can pretend to teach
them the truth. Besides, we have at present no time to
prove and argue.

Euph. But suppose my mind white paper ; and, without
being at any pains to extirpate my opinions, or prove your
own, only say what you would write thereon, or what you
would teach me in case I were teachable. Be for once
in earnest, and let me know some one conclusion of yours
before we part ; or I shall entreat Crito to violate the laws
of hospitality towards those who have violated the laws of
philosophy, by hanging out false lights to one benighted
in ignorance and error. I appeal to you (said he, turning
to Crito), whether these philosophical knight-errants should
not be confined in this castle of yours, till they make
reparation.

Euphranor has reason, said CritOf and my sentence is,
that you remain here in durance till you have done some-
thing towards satisfying the engagement I am under —
having promised, he should know your opinions from
yourselves, which you also agreed to.

360 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

24. Aic. Since it must be so, I will now reveal what
I take to be the sum and substance, the grand arcanum and
ultimate conclusion of our sect, and that in two words—

riANTA YnOAH*I2.

Cri. You are then a downright sceptic. But, sceptic
as you are, you own it probable there is a God, certain
that the Christian religion is useful, possible it may be
true, certain that, if it be, the minute philosophers are in
a bad way. This being the case, how can it be questioned
what course a wise man should take ? Whether the
principles of Christians or infidels are truest may be made
a question ; but which are safest can be none. Certainly
if 3/nn d<^">^<^ of all npini nns you must dou btofj^our own;
an^Tthen, for aught you know, the Christian may be true.
The more doubt the more room there is for faith, a sceptjg
of all men having the least ri ght to demand evidenc e.
Sut, whatever' uncertainty TKere~may be in other points,
thus much is certain : — either there is or is not a God:
there is or is not a revelation : man either is or is not an
agent : the soul is or is not immortal. If the negatives are
not sure, the affirmatives are possible. If the negatives
are improbable, the affirmatives are probable. In pro-
portion as any of your ingenious men finds himself unable
to prove any one of these negatives, he hath grounds to
suspect he may be mistaken, A minute philosopher, there-
fore, that would act a consistent part, should have the
diffidence, the modesty, and the timidity, as well as the
doubts of a sceptic ; not pretend to an ocean of light, and
then lead us to an abyss of darkness. If I have any notion
of ridicule, this is most ridiculous. But your ridiculing
what, for aught you know, may be ti*ue, I can make no
sense of. It is neither acting as a wise man with regard
to your own interest, nor as a good man with regard to
that of your country.

25. Tully saith somewhere, Aut undique religionem toUe,
aut usquequaque conserva : Either let us have no religion
at all, or let it be respected. If any single instance can
be shewn of a people that ever prospered without some
religion, or if there be any religion better than the Christian,
propose it in the grand assembly of the nation to change
our constitution, and either live without religion, or in-

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 361

troduce that new religion. A sceptic, as well as other
men, is member of a community, and can distinguish be-
tween good and evil, natural or political. Be this then
his guide as a patriot, though he be no Christian. Or, if
he doth not pretend even to this discernment, let him not
pretend to correct or alter what he knows nothing of:
neither let him that only doubts behave as if he could
demonstrate. Timagoras is wont to say, I find my country
in possession of certain tenets ; they appear to have a
useful tendency, and as such are encouraged by the legis-
lature ; they make a main part of our constitution ; I do
not find these innovators can disprove them, or substitute
things more useful and certain in their stead : out of
regard therefore to the good of mankind and the laws
of my country, I shall acquiesce in them. I do not say
Timagoras is a Christian, but I reckon him a patriot. Not
to inquire in a point of so great concern is folly, but it is
still a higher degree of folly to condemn without inquiring.

Lystcles seemed heartily tired of this conversation. It
is now late, said he to Alciphron, and all things are ready
for our departure. Every one hath his own way of think-
ing ; and it is as impossible for me to adopt another man's
as to make his complexion and features mine.

Alciphron pleaded that, having complied with Euph-
ranor's conditions, they were now at liberty : and Euph-
ranor answered that, all he desired having been to know
their tenets, he had nothing further to pretend.

26. The philosophers being gone, I observed to Crito
how unaccountable it was that men so easy to confute
should yet be so difiicult to convince.

This, said Crito^ is accounted for by Aristotle, who tells
us that arguments have not an effect on all men, but only
on them whose minds are prepared by education and
custom, as land is for seed\ Make a point never so
clear, it is great odds that a man whose habits and the bent
of whose mind lie in a contrary way shall be unable to
comprehend it. So weak a thing is reason in competition
with inclination.

I replied. This answer might hold with respect to other

* [Ethic, ad Nicom, Lib. X. cap. 9.] — Author.

362 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

persons and other times ; but when the question was of
inquisitive men, in an age wherein reason was so much
cultivated, and thinking so much in vogue, it did not seem
satisfactory.

I have known it remarked, said CrtiOf by a man of much
observation, that in the present age thinking is more talked
of but less practised than in ancient times ; and that since
the revival of learning men have read much and wrote
much, but thought little : insomuch that with us to think
closely and justly is the least part of a learned man, and
none at all of a polite man. The free-thinkers, it must be
owned, make great pretensions to thinking, and yet they
shew but little exactness in it. A lively man, and what
the world calls a man of sense, are often destitute of this
talent ; which is not a mere gift of nature, but must be
improved and perfected by much attention and exercise
on very different subjects ; a thing of more pains and time
than the hasty men of parts in our age care to take.
Such were the sentiments of a judicious friend of mine. And
if you are not already sufficiently convinced of these truths,
you need only cast an eye on the dark and confused, but
nevertheless admired, writers of this famous sect ; and
then you will be able to judge whether those who are led
by men of such wrong heads can have very good ones
of their own. Such, for instance, was Spinosa, the great
leader of our modern infidels, in whom are to be found
many schemes and notions much admired and followed
of late years : — such as undermining religion under the
pretence of vindicating and explaining it : the maintaining
it not necessary to believe in Christ according to the flesh :
the persuading men that miracles are to be understood
only in a spiritual and allegorical sense : that vice is not
so bad a thing as we are apt to think : that men are mere
machines impelled by fatal necessity.

I have heard, said I, Spinosa represented as a man of
close argument and demonstration.

He did, replied CritOj demonstrate; but it was after
such a manner as any one may demonstrate anything.
Allow a man the privilege to make his own definitions of
common words, and it will be no hard matter for him
to infer conclusions which in one sense shall be true and
in another false, at once seeming paradoxes and manifest

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 363

truisms. For example, let but Spinosa define natural
right to be natural power, and he will easily demonstrate
that ' whatever a man can do ' he hath a right to do \
Nothing can be plainer than the folly of this proceeding :
but our pretenders to the lumen siccum are so passionately
prejudiced against religion, as to swallow the grossest
nonsense and sophistry of weak and wicked writers for
demonstration.

27. And so great a noise do these men make, with their
thinking, reasoning, and demonstrating, as to prejudice
some well-meaning persons against all use and improvement
of reason. Honest Demea, having seen a neighbour of
his ruined by the vices of a free-thinking son, contracted
such a prejudice against thinking that he would not suffer
his own to read Euclid, being told it might teach him to
think ; till a friend convinced him the epidemical distemper
was not thinking, but only the want and affectation of it.
I know an eminent free-thinker who never goes to bed
without a gallon of wine in his belly, and is sure to re-
plenish before the fumes are off his brain, by which means
he has not had one sober thought these seven years ;
another, that would not for the world lose the privilege and
reputation of free-thinking, who games all night, and lies
in bed all day : and as for the outside or appearance of
thought in that meagre minute philosopher Ibycus, it is an
effect, not of thinking, but of carking, cheating, and writing
in an office. Strange, said he, that such men should set
up for free-thinkers ! But it is yet more strange that other
men should be out of conceit with thinking and reasoning,
for the sake of such pretenders.

I answered, that some good men conceived an opposition
between reason and religion, faith and knowledge, nature
and grace ; and that, consequently, the way to promote
religion was to quench the light of nature and discourage
all rational inquiry.

28. How right the intentions of these men may be,
replied CritOj I shall not say ; but surely their notions are

' [TracfaL Polit. cap. 2.]— Author. Spinoza was imperfectly under-
stood when Berkeley wrote.

364 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

very wrong. Can anything be more dishonourable to
religion than the representing it as an unreasonable, un-
natural, ignorant institution? God is the Father of all
lights, whether natural or revealed. Natural concupiscence
is one thing, and the light of nature another. You cannot
therefore argue from the former against the latter : neither
can you from science, falsely so called, against real know-
ledge. Whatever, therefore, is said of the one in Holy
Scripture is not to be interpreted of the other.

I insisted that human learning in the hands of divines
had, from time to time, created great disputes and divisions
in the church.

As abstracted metaphysics, replied Crito^ have always
a tendency to produce disputes among Christians, as well
as other men, so it should seem that genuine truth and
knowledge would allay this humour, which makes men
sacrifice the undisputed duties of peace and charity to
disputable notions \

After all, said I, whatever may be said for reason, it is
plain the sceptics and infidels of the age are not to be
cured by it.

I will not dispute this point, said Crito : in order to cure
a distemper, you should consider what produced it. Had
men reasoned themselves into a wrong opinion, one might
hope to reason them out of it. But this is not the case ;
the infidelity of most minute philosophers seeming an
effect of very different motives from thought and reason.
Little incidents, vanity, disgust, humour, inclination, with-
out the least assistance from reason, are often known to
make infidels. Where the general tendency of a doctrine
is disagreeable, the mind is prepared to relish and improve
everything that with the least pretence seems to make
against it. Hence the coarse manners of a country curate,
the polite manners of a chaplain, the wit of a minute
philosopher, a jest, a song, a tale can serve instead of
a reason for infidelity. Bupalus preferred a rake in the
church, and then made use of him as an argument against
it. Vice, indolence, faction, and fashion produce minute
philosophers, and mere petulancy not a few. Who then
can expect a thing so irrational and capricious should yield

^ Berkeley's life was a struggle against • abstracted metaphysics.*

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 365

to reason ^ ? It may, nevertheless, be worth while to argue
against such men, and expose their fallacies, if not for their
own sake, yet for the sake of others ; as it may lessen
their credit, and prevent the growth of their sect, by
removing a prejudice in their favour, which sometimes
inclines others as well as themselves to think they have
made a monopoly of human reason.

29. The most general pretext which looks like reason is
taken from the variety of opinions about religion. This
is a resting-stone to a lazy and superficial mind. But one
of more spirit and a juster way of thinking makes it a step
whence he looks about, and proceeds to examine, and
compare the differing institutions of religion. He will
observe which of these is the most sublime and rational
in its doctrines, most venerable in its mysteries, most
useful in its precepts, most decent in its worship ? which
createth the noblest hopes, and most worthy views ? He
will consider their rise and progress : which oweth least
to human arts or arms? which flatters the senses and
gross inclinations of men ? which adorns and improves
the most excellent part of our nature ? which hath been
propagated in the most wonderful manner? which hath
surmounted the greatest difficulties, or shewed the most
disinterested zeal and sincerity in its professors ? He
will inquire, which best accords with nature and history ?
He will consider, what savours of the world, and what
looks like wisdom from above? He will be careful to
separate human alloy from that which is Divine; and,
upon the whole, form his judgment like a reasonable
free-thinker. But, instead of taking such a rational course,
one of these hasty sceptics shall conclude without demur-
ring, there is no wisdom in politics, no honesty in dealings,
no knowledge in philosophy, no truth in religion ; and all
by one and the same sort of inference, from the numerous
examples of folly, knavery, ignorance, and error which
are to be met with in the world. But, as those who arc
unknowing in everything else imagine themselves sharp-
sighted in religion, this learned sophism is oftenest levelled
against Christianity.

* See Guardian f No. 9, on the intellectual narrowness of * Free-
thinkers ' ; hence called * minute philosophers.'

366 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

30. In my opinion, he that would convince an infidel
who can be brought to reason ought in the first place
clearly to convince him of the being of a God : it seeming
to me, that any man who is really a theist, cannot be an
enemy to the Christian religion ; and that the ignorance
or disbelief of this fundamental point is that which at
bottom constitutes the minute philosopher \ I imagine
they who are acquainted with the great authors in the
minute philosophy need not be told of this. The being
of a God is capable of clear proof, and a proper object of
human reason : whereas the mysteries of His nature, and
indeed whatever there is of mystery in religion, to en-
deavour to explain and prove by reason is a vain attempt I
It is sufficient if we can shew there is nothing absurd
or repugnant in our belief of those points ; and, instead
of framing hypotheses to explain them, we use our reason
only for answering the objections brought against them.
But, on all occasions, we ought to distinguish the serious,
modest, ingenuous man of sense, who hath scruples about
religion, and behaves like a prudent man in doubt, from
the minute philosophers, those profane and conceited men,
who must needs proselyte others to their own doubts.
When one of this stamp presents himself, we should
consider what species he is of: whether a first or a second-
hand philosopher, a libertine, scorner, or sceptic ; each
character requiring a peculiar treatment. Some men are
too ignorant to be humble, without which there can be
no docility. But though a man must in some degree have
thought and considered, to be capable of being convinced,
yet it is possible the most ignorant may be laughed out of
his opinions. I knew a woman of sense reduce two
minute philosophers, who had long been a nuisance to the
neighbourhood, by taking her cue from their predominant
affectations. The one set up for being the most incredulous
man upon earth, the other for the most unbounded freedom.
She observed to the first, that he who had credulity
sufficient to trust the most valuable things, his life and

* AlciphroH is accordingly a dis- presupposition of all proof, rather

cussion of the rationale of theism ; than itself dependent on external

latterly of theism in its Christian proof ? Religion is rooted in human

form. nature as a whole, not deduced

^ Is not theistic faith or trust the by an abstract intelligence.

THE SEVENTH DIALOGUE 367

fortune, to his apothecary and lawyer, ridiculously affected
the character of incredulous by refusing to trust his soul,
a thing in his own account but a mere trifle, to his parish
priest. The other, being what you call a beau, she made
sensible how absolute a slave he was in point of dress,
to him the most important thing in the world, while he
was earnestly contending for a liberty of thinking, with
which he never troubled his head; and how much more
it concerned and became him to assert an independency
on fashion, and obtain scope for his genius where it was
best qualified to exert itself. The minute philosophers
at first hand are very few, and, considered in themselves,
of small consequence : but their followers, who pin their
faith upon them, are numerous, and not less confident
than credulous; there being something in the air and
manner of these second-hand philosophers very apt to
disconcert a man of gravity and argument, and much
more difficult to be borne than the weight of their
objections.

31. Crito having made an end, Euphranor declared it
to be his opinion, that it would much conduce to the
public benefit, if, instead of discouraging free-thinking,
there was erected in the midst of this free country a
Dianoetic Academy, or seminary for free-thinkers, pro-
vided with retired chambers, and galleries, and shady
walks and groves, where, after seven years spent in silence
and meditation, a man might commence a genuine free-
thinker, and from that time forward have licence to think
what he pleased, and a badge to distinguish him from
counterfeits.

In good earnest, said Crito ^ I imagine that thinking is the
great desideratum of the present age ; and that the real
cause of whatever is amiss may justly be reckoned the
general neglect of education in those who need it most —
the people of fashion. What can be expected where those
who have the most influence have the least sense, and
those who are sure to be followed set the worst example ?
where youth so uneducated are yet so forward? where
modesty is esteemed pusillanimity, and a deference
to years, knowledge, religion, laws, want of sense and
spirit ? Such untimely growth of genius would not have

368 ALCIPHRON OR THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHER

been valued or encouraged by the wise men of antiquity :
whose sentiments on this point are so ill suited to the
genius of our times that it is to be feared modern ears
could not bear them. But, however ridiculous such
maxims might seem to our British youth, who are so
capable and so forward to try experiments, and mend the
constitution of their country, I believe it will be admitted
by men of sense that, if the governing part of mankind
would in these days, for experiment's sake, consider them-
selves in that old Homerical light as pastors of the people,
whose duty it was to improve their flock, they would soon
find that this is to be done by an education very different
from the modern, and other guess maxims than those of
the minute philosophy. If our youth were really inured to
thought and reflexion, and an acquaintance with the excel-
lent writers of antiquity, we should soon see that licentious
humour, vulgarly called free-thinkings banished from the
presence of gentlemen, together with ignorance and ill
taste; ^vhich as they are inseparable from vice, so men
follow vice for the sake of pleasure, and fly from virtue
through an abhorrence of pain. Their minds, therefore,
betimes should be formed and accustomed to receive
pleasure and pain from proper objects, or, which is the
same thing, to have their inclinations and aversions rightly
placed. KaXws xatpeLv ^ fua-eiv. This, according to Plato
and Aristotle, was the SpOrj TraiSctia, the right education'.
And those who, in their own minds, their health, or their
fortunes, feel the cursed effects of a wrong one, would do
well to consider, they cannot make better amends for
what was amiss in themselves than by preventing the
same in their posterity.

While Crito was saying this, company came in, which
put an end to our conversation.

' [Plato in Protag.f and Arist. Ethic, ad Nicont,^ Lib. IL cap. 2, and
Lib. X. cap. 9.] — Author.

THE

THEORY OF VISION

VISUAL LANGUAGE

SHEWING THE IMMEDIATE PRESENCE AND PROVIDENCE

OF A DEITY

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

BY THE AUTHOR OF

Alciphroftf or, The Minute Philosopher

Acts xvii. a8.
' In Him we live, and move, and have our being/

First published in 1733

[Price One Shilling]

tll. Bb

{

EDITOR'S PREFACE

TO THE

THEORY OF VISION, OR VISUAL LANGUAGE,
VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

•

This tract, ostensibly a vindication and explanation of
the theory, that in seeing we are interpreting a language
which God is continually addressing to our senses, in-
volves a retrospect of principles which Berkeley had been
gradually unfolding and applying in his preceding meta-
physical works.

More particularly in the Fourth Dialogue in Alciphrofiy
on which the whole discussion in the Minute Philosopher
may be said to turn, Euphranor is engaged in shewing
that the phenomena perceived in sight are so connected,
in the order of Nature, with our tactual, muscular, and
locomotive experience, that we can read this experience
in terms of what we see : so that the Power immanent in
Nature is virtually speaking to us in all visual phenomena,
thus giving the same sort of evidence that Supreme Power
is living and active Intelligence as a man gives when
he addresses us in spoken or written words. This argu-
ment may be taken as a development of the Theory of
Vision^ published more than twenty years before, now freed
from the reserve with which it was embarrassed in the
earlier work, when Berkeley's new conception of the reality
of the material world was held back. In Alciphron it
presents a striking lesson of the omnipresence of God in

B b 2

372 EDITOR S PREFACE TO THE

Nature, andof the immediate dependence of all charges
and natural laws upon constant Divine agency and adapta-
tion.

The appearance of Alciphron^ with this Fourth Dialogue
at its centre, and with the original Essay on Vision of
1709 appended, called forth the following Anonymous
Letter, containing articulate objections to his account of
Sight as the language of God. The Letter was published
in London, in the Daily Post-Boy, on September 9, 1732.

A Letter from an Anonymous Writer to the Author

of the Minute Philosopher \

Reverend Sir,

I have read over your treatise called Alciphron, in which
the Free-thinkers of the present age, in their various shifted
tenets, are pleasantly, elegantly, and solidly confuted. The
style is easy, the language plain, and the arguments are nervous.
But upon the Treatise annexed thereto 2, and upon that part
where you seem to intimate that Vision is the sole Language
of God , I beg leave to make these few observations, and offer
them to your's and your readers' consideration.

1. Whatever it is without that is the cause of any idea within,
I call the ob/ect of sense : the sensations arising from such objecis^
I call ideas. The objects, therefore, that cause such sensations
are without us, and the ideas within.

2. Had we but one sense, we might be apt to conclude that
there were no objects at all without us, but that the whole
scene of ideas which passed through the mind arose from its
internal operations; but since the same object is the cause
of ideas by different senses, thence we infer its existence. But,
though the object be one and the same, the ideas that it pro-
duces in different senses have no manner of similitude with
one another. Because,

3. Whatever connexion there is betwixt the idea of one
sense and the idea of another, produced by the same object,

^ The first edition of Alciphron 0/ Vision wsls annexed to Alciphron

was published six monthsf before, on account of its connexion with

and the Theory of Vision Vindicated the theistic argument in the Fourth

and Explained four months after Dialogue,

the appearance of this Letter. ^ The Essay on Vision, sect. 147 ;

'^ The Essay towards a New Theory also Alciphron, Dial. IV. sect. 7-15.

THEORY OF VISION, OR VISUAL LANGUAGE 373

arises only from experience. To explain this a little familiarly,
let us suppose a man to have such an exquisite sense of feeling
given him that he could perceive plainly and distinctly the
inequality of the surface of two objects, which, by its reflecting
and refracting the rays of light, produces the ideas of colours.
At first, in the dark, though he plainly perceived a difference
by his touch, yet he could not possibly tell which was red and
which was white, whereas a little experience would make him
feel a colour in the dark, as well as see it in the light.

4. The same word in languages stands very often for the
object without, and for the ideas it produces within in the
several senses. When it stands for any object without, it is
the representative of no manner of idea ; neither can we
possibly have any idea of what is solely without us. Because,

5. Ideas within have no other connexion with the objects
without than from the frame and make of our bodies,
which is by the arbitrary appointment of God : and, though
we cannot well help imagining that the objects without are
something like our ideas within, yet a new set of senses, or
the alteration of the old ones, would soon convince us of our
mistake ; and, though our ideas would then be never so dif-
ferent, yet the objects might be the same.

6. However, in the present situation of affairs, there is an
infallible certain connexion betwixt the idea and the object ;
and, therefore, when an object produces an idea in one sense,
we know, but from experience only, what idea it will produce
in another sense.

7. The alteration of an object may produce a different idea
in one sense from what it did before, which may not be dis-
tinguished by another sense. But, where the alteration occa-
sions different ideas in different senses, we may, from our
infallible experience, argue from the idea of one sense to that
of the other ; so that, if a different idea arises in two senses
from the alteration of an object, either in situation or distance,
or any other way, when we have the idea in one sense, we know
from use what idea the object so situated will produce in the other.

8. Hence, as the operations of Nature are always regular
and uniform, where the same alteration of the object occasions
a smaller difference in the ideas of one sense, and a greater
in the other, a curious observer may argue as well from exact
observations as if the difference in the ideas was equal ; since
experience plainly teaches us that a just proportion is observed
in the alteration of the ideas of each sense, from the alteration
of the object. Within this sphere is confined all the judicious
observations and knowledge of mankind.

Now, from these observations, rightly understood and con-
sidered, your New Theory of Vision must in a great measure
fall to the ground, and the laws of Optics will be found to stand

374 EDITOR S PREFACE TO THE

upon the old unshaken bottom. For, though our ideas of magni-
tude and distance in one sense are entirely different from our
ideas of magnitude and distance in another, yet we may justly
argue from one to the other, as they have one common cause
without, of which, as without, we cannot possibly have the
faintest idea. The ideas I have of distance and magnitude
hy feeling are widely different from the ideas I have of them by
seeing ; but that something without, which is the cause of all the
variety of the ideas within in one sense, is the cause also of
the variety in the other : and, as they have a necessary con-
nexio n with it, we may very justly demonstrate from our ideas
of feeling of the same object what will be our ideas in seeing.
And, though to talk of seeing by tangible angles and tangible
lines be, I agree with you, direct nonsense, yet to demonstrate
from angles and lines in feelings, to the ideas in seeing that
arise from the same common object, is very good sense, and so
vice versa.

From these observations, thus hastily laid together, and a
thorough digestion thereof, a great many useful corollaries in
all philosophical disputes might be collected.

I am,

Your humble servant, iSic.

This Letter was regarded by Berkeley as important
enough to draw forth this Vindication and Explanation^
also in the form of a Letter, which was published in
London in March, 1733, 'printed for J. Tonson in the
Strand.' It was written in London, where Berkeley, now
in indifferent health, had been staying with his family from
the time of his return from Rhode Island, early in the
preceding year.

The fortune of the Vindication and Explanation of the
Theory of Divine Visual Language illustrates the tendency
to read superficially and then neglect his cosmical and
metaphysical conceptions, which strikes us when we follow
their fortunes during his life. This interesting tract was
unaccountably excluded from all collected editions of
Berkeley's Works preceding the Oxford edition in 187 1.
It seems to have been forgotten for nearly a hundred
years. It is alluded to in Smith's Optics^ in 1738, and
a century later by Sir James Mackintosh in his Disserta-

THEORY OF VISION, OR VISUAL LANGUAGE 375

tion^f and by Sir William Hamilton in his Discussions'^.
Its republication in i860 by Mr. Cowell of King's College,
London, has now made it familiar to students.

The eight opening sections of Berkeley's Answer press
with earnestness the importance of 'Visual Language'
as ' a new and unanswerable proof of the existence and
immediate operation of God, and the constant care of
His Providence,' against /those who called themselves
free-thinkers,' and were by Berkeley charged with a covert
atheism, which made them 'minute' philosophers. Here
especially, and occasionally in Alciphron, his natural im-
petuosity, added to indignation on account of the exclusive
claim of the ' minute philosophers ' to free employment
of reason in religion, tempt him to use language hardly
consistent with the philosophical temper. Those whom
he charged with atheism were professed theists, engaged
with the important question of the nature and resources of
what was called ' natural religion,' and the duty of reason
to investigate this without restraint by ecclesiastical or
other authority. This is a question which raises the deepest
problems that can engage the human mind. It is true
that one cannot rate highly either the religious or the
philosophical insight of the deistical free-thinkers who
were Berkeley's contemporaries. Their narrow premises
and rapid conclusions were discredited by Berkeley and
Butler. But they raised questions which still engross
religious thinkers, which were soon afterwards discussed
with more insight by Hume and Kant. And one must
not forget the warm friendship of John Locke for Anthony
Collins, against whom Berkeley directs his strongest in-
vective. ' Believe it, my good friend,' Locke writes to
Collins, 'to love truth for truth's sake is the principal
part of human perfection in this world, and the seed-plot

^ In connexion with Shaftesbury,
' In the article on Arthur Collier.

376 editor's preface to the

of all other virtues ; and if I mistake not, you have as
much of it as ever I met with in any body.' This is the
spirit in which Locke speaks of Collins throughout their
interesting correspondence \

Sect. 9-18 offer some preliminary verbal explanations.
In particular, the distinction between objects of perception
in the five senses (called also ideas and sensations), on the
one hand, and the cause of those appearances on the other
hand, is strenuously insisted on, as of prime importance
in the discussion. Then, as regards objects, it is ruled
that those presented in each of the five senses have
nothing in common with those presented in the other
senses ; and yet they are so connected, under natural law,
that objects perceived in one of our senses are made by
the Supreme Power, signs of objects perceptible by another
sense — the data of one thus forming what is virtually
a language which tells us of data provided by the others.
But mere appearances presented to our senses, and their
significant relations to one another, must not be confounded
with metaphysical questions about Power at work in this
phenomenal cosmos. A study of the phenomena presented
in the different senses should precede the deeper question
about the Power that is continually at work throughout
the Whole, and of which the Whole is a revelation. The
theory of Vision, strictly regarded, is exhausted when it
has fully realised the conception, that the objects of sight
are signs in what is virtually a language ; but this opens
the way to the higher conception, that this language is
Divine, so that the entire universe of interpretable pheno-
mena presented in sense is really a revelation of the
Supreme Power as Active Mind.

Articulate answers to each of the eight objections in the
'Anonymous Letter' are given in sect. 19-34, based upon
these preliminary explanations.

^ See the letters to Collins in Locke's IVorks, vol. X. pp. 261-98.

THEORY OF VISION, OR VISUAL LANGUAGE 377

In sect. 35-47 the ' New Theory of Vision/ unfolded
analytically in the juvenile Essay in 1709, is presented
in reverse order, or synthetically. The aim of the previous
analysis was to dissolve the prejudice occasioned by the
constant association of visual with tactual experience ;
to exhibit their antethesis as objects; and after that
their synthesis as interpretable signs. But in the Vindica-
tion the conclusion reached in the early Essay is pre-
supposed at the outset, and then applied to explain our
judgments of the situations, sizes, and distances of things,
which we seem to see immediately. In all this there is
involved the assumption that the human mind is governed
by a law of suggestion through previous concomitance
of the phenomena involved in the suggestion (sect. 39).
Suggestion belongs primarily to sense more than to reason :
to be suggested is one thing, to be inferred is another
(sect. 42). In Visual Language the objects or signs are light
and colour. How it comes to pass that we can apprehend,
by the phenomena of light and colour, which are the only
proper objects of sight, certain other ideas or objects, which
neither resemble them, nor cause them, nor are caused
by them, nor have any necessary connexion with them,
comprehends in his view the whole theory of Vision
(sect. 42). The leading constituents of the theory are,
the absolute heterogeneity of objects visible and objects
tangible ; an assumption of our inability a priori to
interpret the tactual meaning of visual objects, in their
capacity of visual signs ; and the proof that a constant
association between the visual and the tangible world in
our experience, together with instinctive faith in the uni-
formity of nature, is sufficient to infuse reliable tactual
meaning into the appearances of which we are immediately
percipient in seeing (sect. 41-47).

In sect. 48-69 this theory is applied synthetically to
explain in detail our interpretation of Visual Signs

378 editor's preface to the theory of vision

of the tactual Situations, Magnitudes, and Distances of
things.

The Vindication closes (sect. 70), with an allusion to
Chesselden's notable record, in the Philosophical Transac-
tions, of the case of a youth born blind, and afterwards made
to see ; in confirmation of the conclusion that our now
constantly exercised ability to read the tactual meaning
of visual signs is not an inexplicable instinct, but is
explicable according to known laws of suggestion, under
divinely-maintained relations between objects of sight and
objects of touch.

The design of this recognition of Visual Language is
the practical one of restoring and sustaining faith in
the constancy and universality of Divine Agency in the
natural world. Sensuous phenomena are thus equivalent
to words spoken by God, which we are all daily inter-
preting; so that man by reflexion finds in them proof
that he is always living and moving in a universe that
is charged with Providential Intelligence.

THE

THEORY OF VISION

VISUAL LANGUAGE, VINDICATED AND

EXPLAINED

In answer to an Anonymous Writer

I. An ill state of health, which permits me to apply
myself but seldom and by short intervals to any kind of
studies, must be my apology, Sir, for not answering your
Letter* sooner. This would have altogether excused me
from a controversy upon points either personal or purely
speculative, or from entering the lists with declaimers,
whom I leave to the triumph of their own passions. And
indeed to one of this character, who contradicts himself
and misrepresents me, what answer can be made more
than to desire his readers not to take his word for what
I say, but to use their own eyes, read, examine, and judge
for themselves? And to their Common Sense I appeal.
For such a writer, such an answer may suffice. But
argument, I allow, hath a right to be considered, and,
where it doth not convince, to be opposed with reason.
And being persuaded that the Theory of Vision, annexed
to The Minute Philosopher^ affords to thinking men a new
and unanswerable proof of the Existence and immediate
Operation of God, and the constant condescending care of

* [Published in the Daily Post-Boy of September the 9th, 173a.] —
Author.

380 THE THEORY OF VISION

His Providence, I think myself concerned, as well as
I am able, to defend and explain it, at a time wherein
Atheism hath made a greater progress than some are
willing to own, or others to believe.

2. ^ He who considers that the present avowed enemies
of Christianity began their attacks against it under the
specious pretext of defending the Christian Church and
its rights '\ when he observes the same men pleading for
Natural Religion, will be tempted to suspect their views,
and judge of their sincerity in one case from what they
have shewed in the other. Certainly the notion of a
watchful, active, intelligent, free Spirit, with whom we
have to do, and in whom we live and move and have our
being, is not the most prevailing in the books and con-
versation even of those who are called Deists. Besides,
as their schemes take effect, we may plainly perceive
moral virtue and the religion of nature to decay, and see,
both from reason and experience, that the destroying the
Revealed Religion must end in Atheism or Idolatry.
It must be owned, many minute philosophers would not
like at present to be accounted Atheists. But how many,
twenty years ago, would have been affronted to be thought
Infidels, who would now be much more affronted to be
thought Christians ! As it would be unjust to charge
those with Atheism who are not really tainted with it;
so it will be allowed very uncharitable and imprudent to
overlook it in those who are, and suffer such men, under
specious pretexts, to spread their principles, and in the
event to play the same game with Natural Religion that
they have done with Revealed.

3. It must, without question, shock some innocent
admirers of a certain plausible pretender to Deism and
Natural Religion ^ if a man should say, there are strong
signatures of Atheism and irreligion in every sense,
natural as well as revealed, to be found even in that
admired writer: and yet, to introduce taste instead of

^ Sect. 1-8 contain observations ^ The allusion is to Tindal*si?^Afe

upon *free thinking* Atheism, 0/ the Christian Church. See sect

which the author finds at the 5, note 3.

root of the English Deism, in the ' Shaftesbury, against whom the

early part of last century. Cf. Third Dialogue in Alciphron is

Alciphron, Dial. I. directed.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

381

duty, to make man a necessary agent, to deride a future
judgment, seem to all intents and purposes atheistical, or
subversive of all religion whatsoever. And these every
attentive reader may plainly discover to be his principles ;
although it be not always easy to fix a determinate sense
on such a loose and incoherent writer. There seems to
be a certain way of writing, whether good or bad, tinsel
or sterling, sense or nonsense, which, being suited to that
size of understanding that qualifies its owners for the
Minute Philosophy, doth marvellously strike and dazzle
those ingenious men, who are by this means conducted
they know not how, and they know not whither. Doubt-
less that Atheist who gilds, and insinuates, and, even
while he insinuates, disclaims his principles, is the likeliest
to spread them. What availeth it, in the cause of Virtue
and Natural Religion, to acknowledge the strongest traces
of wisdom and power throughout the structure of the
universe, if this wisdom is not employed to observe, nor
this power to recompense our actions ; if we neither
believe ourselves accountable, nor God our Judge ?

4. All that is said of a vital principle, or order, harmony,
and proportion ; all that is said of the natural decorum
and fitness of things ; all that is said of taste and enthu-
siasm, may well consist and be supported, without a grain
even of Natural Religion ; without any notion of Law or
Duty, any belief of a Lord or Judge, or any religious
sense of a God : the contemplation of the mind upon the
ideas of beauty, and virtue, and order, and fitness, being
one thing, and a sense of religion another. So long as
we admit no principle of good actions but natural affection,
no reward but natural consequences ; so long as we appre-
hend no judgment, harbour no fears, and cherish no
hopes of a future state, but laugh at all these things, with
the author of the Characteristics^ and those whom he
esteems the liberal and polished part of mankind \ how

^ [Characteristics f vol. III. Miscel.
3, ch. 2. ] — Author. ' The fortune
of the Characteristics* says Sir. J.
Mackintosh, ' has been singular.
For a time the work was admired
more undistinguishingly than its
literary character warrants. In

the succeeding period it was justly
criticised, but too severely con-
demned. Of late, more unjustly
than in either of the two former
cases, it has been generally neg-
lected. It seemed to have the
power of changing the temper of

382

THE THEORY OF VISION

can we be said to be religious in any sense? Or what
is here that an Atheist may not find his account in as well
as a Theist ? To what moral purpose might not Fate or
Nature serve as well as a Deity, on such a scheme ? And is
not this, at bottom, the amount of all those fair pretences?
5. Certainly that atheistical men, who hold no principles
of any religion, natural or revealed, are an increasing
number, and this too among people of no despicable rank,
hath long since been expressly acknowledged by one who
will be allowed a proper judge, even this same plausible
pretender himself to Deism and Enthusiasm \ But if any
well-meaning persons, deluded by artful writers in the
Minute Philosophy, or wanting the opportunity of any
unreserved conversation with some ingenious men of that
sect, should think that Lysicles'^ hath overshot the mark,
and misrepresented their principles ; to be satisfied of the
contrary, they need only cast an eye on the Philosophical
Dissertation upon Death^^ lately published by a minute
philosopher. Perhaps some man of leisure may think it
worth while to trace the progress and unfolding of their
principles, down from the writer in defence of the Rights
of the Christian Church ^^ to this plain dealer, the admirable
author upon Death. During which period of time, I think
one may observe a laid design gradually to undermine

its critics. It provoked the amiable
Berkeley to a harshness equally
unwonted and unwarranted ; while
it softened the rugged Warburton
so far as to dispose the fierce yet
not altogether ungenerous polemic
to praise an enemy in the very
heat of conflict.' — Dissertation on
the Progress of Ethical Philosophy^
sect. V.

^ [Moralists f Part II. sect. 3.] —
Author.

^ One of the two free-thinking
interlocutors in Alciphron,

^ A Philosophical Dissertation
upon Deaths composed for the Con-
solation of the Unhappy, By a
Friend to Truth. (London, 173a.)
This work was attributed to A. Radi-
cati, Count de Passerano, and the
translation to John (Thomas?)
Morgan. The fear of death, as well

as all moral feelings and judgments,
are referred in this Essay to custom
and convention ; the licence of
a morality according to circum-
stances is vindicated ; also the law-
fulness and occasional expediency
of suicide.

* The Rights of the Christian
Church asserted against the Romish
and other Priests who claim an inde-
pendent power over it. With a Pre-
face concerning the Government of
the Church of England as by Law
established. (London, 1706.) The
author was Matthew Tindal. The
work called forth a host of contro-
versial pamphlets. It was defended
by Le Clerc and others as a fair
attack on Sacerdotalism. In 1731,
Tindal published his Christianity as
old as the Creation : or the Gospel a
republication of the Religion of Nature,

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED 383

the belief of the Divine Attributes and Natural Religion ;

whicli scheme runs parallel with their gradual, covert,
insincere proceedings, in respect of the Gospel.

6. That atheistical principles have taken deeper root,
and are farther spread than most people are apt to imagine,
will be plain to whoever considers that Pantheism,
Materialism, Fatalism are nothing but Atheism a little
disguised; that the notions of Hobhes, Spinoza, Leibnitz',
and Bayle are relished and applauded; that as they who
deny the freedom and immortality of the soul in effect
deny its being, even so they do, as to all moral effects
and natural religion, deny the being of God, who deny
Him to be an observer, judge, and rewarder of human
actions; that the course of arguing pursued by Infidels
leads to Atheism as well as Infidehty'.

[An instance of this may be seen in the proceeding of
the author of a book' intituled, A Discourse of Free-think-
ing occasioned by the Rise and Growtli of a sect called Free-
thinkers; who, having insinuated his infidelity, from men's
various pretences and opinions concerning revealed reli-
gion, in like manner appears to insinuate his Atheism,
from the differing notions of men concerning the nature
and attributes of God particularly from the opinion of our
knowing God by Analogy (see p. 42 of the mentioned
book), as it hath been misunderstood and misinterpreted
by some of late years, Such is the il! effect of untoward
defences and explanations of our faith ; and such advan-
tage do incautious friends give its enemies. If there
be any modern well-meaning writer, who (perhaps from
not having considered the Fifth Book of Euclid) writes
much of Analogy without understanding it, and thereby
hath slipped his foot into this snare, I wish him to slip

' Leibnii is here strangely asso-
cisted with Hobbes, Spinoza, and
Bayle, his professed antagonists ;
perhaps on the ground of his
account of moral agency, in [he
ThioditH, and in hia CornsfiOHdinii
with Clarke.

" ' Infidelity '—want of faith in

I
I

vetay.

Christian

"y-

' Anthony Collins,

:uUr Rtmari ,
a tail DUcoMrse 0/ Ftie-lhintitig :
iH a litllr lo T. H., D.D. CDr-
Hare, afterwards Bishop of Cb\-
ci\esteT],byPhililmlherMsLit>sitnivi
(Dr. Benlley). London, 1713. It
was in [713 that Berkeley's Essays
against the Free-thinkers appeared
in the GHitrdim,.

3^4

THE THEORY OF VISION

it back again, and, instead of causing scandal to good men
and triumph to Atheists, discreetly explain away his first
sense, and return to speak of God and His attributes in
the style of other Christians; allowing that knowledge
and wisdom do, in the proper sense of the words, belong
to God, and that we have some notion, though infinitely
inadequate, of these Divine attributes, yet still more than
a man blind from his birth can have of sight and colours '.J

But to return, if I see it in their writings, if they own
it in their conversation, if their ideas imply it, if their
ends are not answered but by supposing it, if their
leading author^ hath pretended to demonstrate Atheism,
but thought fit to conceal his Demonstration from the
public ; if this was known in their clubs, and yet that
author was nevertheless followed, and represented to the
world as a believer of Natural Religion ; if these things
are so (and I know them to be so), surely what the
favourers of their schemes would palliate^ it is the duty of
others to display and refute.

7. And although the characters of Divinity are large and
legible throughout the whole creation to men of plain

* Cf. Alciphrofiy Diafoguc IV.
sect. 16-32, in which the terms
feeling, knowledge, and good-
ness, as attributable to God, and
the opinion that those must then
be wholly analogical, i. e. meta-
phorical, are discussed. The
* well-meaning writer, who writes
much of Analogy without under-
standing it,' is Bishop Browne,
whose book, entitled, Things Divine
and Supemcfiurat conceived by Ana-
logy with Things Human, appeared
in 1733, soon after Alciphron, Be-
sides Berkeley and Browne, both
Irish bishops, two archbishops of
Dublin, three English prelates, and
an English dean, have discussed
the possibility of knowledge of
God by man, and whether, like the
born-blind knowledge of light and
colour, it is wholly * analogical,' so
that intellectual, moral, and spiritual
life and personality, in the human

meaning of those words, cannot
be affirmed of Deity with abso-
lute truth. I refer to Archbishop
King's discourse on The Right
Method of interpreting Scripture, in
what relates to the Nature of the
Deity, edited with notes by Arch-
bishop Whately ; Bishop Law's
Notes on Archbishop King's Essay
on the Origin of Evil; Bishop Cople-
ston's Inquiry into the Doctrines cf
Necessity and Predestincrtion; Bishop
Hampden's Bampton Lectures on
The Scholastic Philosophy in its
relation to Christian Theology ; and
Dean ManseFs Bampton Lectures
on The Limits of Religious Thought,
^ Anthony Collins. Cf. AUi'
phron — ' Advertisement,* note. * It
is only through an analogy of the
human with the Divine nature,'
says Sir W. Hamilton, *that we
are percipient and recipient of
Divinity * (^Discussions, p. ao, note).

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED 385

sense and common understanding, yet it must be con-
sidered that we have other adversaries to oppose, other
proselytes to make; men prejudiced to false systems and
proof against vulgar arguments, who must be dealt with
on a different footing. Conceited, metaphysical, disputing
men must be paid in another coin ; we must shew that
truth and reason in all shapes are equally against them,
except we resolve to give them up, what they are very
fond of being thought -to engross, all pretensions to
philosophy, science, and speculation.

8. Meanwhile thus much is evident : those good men
who shall not care to employ their thoughts on this Theory
of Vision have no reason to find fault. They are just
where they were, being left in full possession of all other
arguments for a God, none of which are weakened by
this. And as for those who shall be at the pains to
examine and consider this subject, it is hoped they may
be pleased to find, in an age wherein so many schemes of
Atheism are restored or invented, a new argument of
a singular nature in proof of the immediate Care and
Providence of a God, present to our minds, and directing
our actions. As these considerations convince me that
I cannot employ myself more usefully than in contributing
to awaken and possess men with a thorough sense of the
Deity inspecting, concerning, and interesting itself in ,
human actions and affairs : so, I hope it will not be dis-
agreeable to you ' that, in order to this, I make my appeal
to reason, from your remarks upon what I fiave wrote
concerning Vision ; since men who differ in the means 1
may yet agree in the end, and in the same candour and 1
love of truth,

9. By a sensible objecl' I understand that which is I
properly perceived by sense. Things properly perceived
by sense are immediately perceived. Besides things pro-
perly and immediately perceived by any sense, there may
be also other things suggested to the mind by means

' 'you,' i, e. the anonymous of which we are directly percipi-

writer of the ' Letter to the Author ent in sense, with the arfii* rouse

of the Minult Philosopher,' lo which presents them to the per-

which this 'Vindication' is the cipient being. Cf. Observation i

reply. of the anonymous writer.

' Sect, 9-18 contrast the objMs

386 THE THEORY OF VISION

of those proper and immediate objects ; which things so
suggested are not objects of that sense, being in truth
only objects of the imagination, and originally belonging
to some other sense or faculty. Thus, sounds are the
proper objects of hearing, being properly and immediately
perceived by that, and by no other sense. But, by the
mediation of sounds or words, all other things may be
suggested to the mind ; and yet things so suggested are
not thought the object of hearing ^

10. The peculiar objects of each sense, although they
are truly or strictly perceived by that sense alone, may
yet be suggested to the imagination by some other sense.
The objects therefore of all the senses may become
objects of imagination ; which faculty represents all
sensible things. A colour, therefore, which is truly per-
ceived by sight alone, may, nevertheless, upon hearing the
words blue or red, be apprehended by the imagination.
It is in a primary and peculiar manner the object of sight ;
in a secondary manner it is the object of imagination : but
cannot properly be supposed the object of hearing.

11. The objects of sense, being things immediately per-
ceived, are otherwise called ideas.

The cause of these ideas, or the power of producing
them, is not the object of sense, not being itself perceived,
but only inferred by reason from its effects, to wit, those
objects or ideas which are perceived by sense. From our
ideas of sense the inference of reason is good to power,
cause, agent. But we may not therefore infer that our
ideas are like unto this Power, Cause, or Active Being.
On the contrary, it seems evident that an idea can be only
like another idea, and that in our ideas or immediate
objects of sense, there is nothing of power, causality, or
agency included ^

12. Hence it follows that the Power or Cause of ideas
is not an object of sense, but of reason. Our knowledge
of the cause is measured by the effect ; of the power, by
our idea. To the absolute nature, therefore, of outward

^ What is * suggested' is not an ception. Is not reason unconsciously

immediately present object of sense, at work in the spontaneous ex-

but is represented in imagination, pectation here called ^ suggestion ' ?
which thus, in the form of an expec- * Cf. Principles of Human Know-

tation, ministers to immediate per- ledge^ sect. 25-28.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

387

causes or powers, we have nothing to say : they are no
objects of our sense or perception. Whenever, therefore,
the appellation of sensible object is used in a determined
intelligible sense, it is not applied to signify the absolutely
existing outward cause or power, but the ideas themselves
produced thereby.

13. Ideas which are observed to be connected together
are vulgarly considered under the relation of cause and
effect, whereas, in strict and philosophic truth, they are
only related as the sign to the thing signified. For, we
know our ideas, and therefore know that one idea cannot
be the cause of another. We know that^ our idp^ R nf
sense are not the cause of themselves ^ We know also
that we do not cause them. Hence we know they must
have some other efficient Cause, distinct from them and us ^,

14. In treating of Vision, it was my purpose to consider
the effects and appearances, the objects, perceived by my
senses, the ideas of sight as connected with those of
touch ^ ; to inquire how one idea comes to suggest another
belonging to a different sense, how things visible sug-
gest things tangible, how present things suggest things
more remote and future, whether by likeness, by necessary
connexion, by geometrical inference, or by arbitrary in-
stitution.

15. It hath indeed been a prevailing opinion and un-
doubted principle among mathematicians and philosophers
that there were certain ideas common to both senses :
whence arose the distinction of primary and secondary
qualities. But, I think it hath been demonstrated that
there is no such thing as a common object — as an idea,
or kind of idea perceived both by sight and touch \

* In other words, all (so-called^)
natural causes are only constant
forerunners or signs of the changes
in nature which are popularly
called their effects, and which ac-
cordingly they signify and suggest.
The modern conception of phy-
sical science is involved in this
sentence. Cf. Principles of Human
Knowledge, sect. 25, 26, 51-53, 65,
66, &c. ; also De Motu, sect. 1-42.

- This is Berkeley's externality.

The material world is realised in
living mind, but is independent of
my will, and is thus not me, Cf.
Principles of Human Knowledge,
sect. 56, 57, «&c.

' i. e. the effects, appearances, or
objects (called ideas) ; as distin-
guished from their active cause,
of which we are not immediately
percipient.

* [Theory of Vision, sect. 127,
&€.] — Author.

C C 2

388 THE THEORY OF VISION

16. In order to treat with due exactness on the nature
of Vision, it is necessary in the first place accurately to
consider our own ideas*; to distinguish where there is
a difference ; to call things by their right names ; to define
terms, and not confound ourselves and others by their
ambiguous use ; the want or neglect whereof hath so often
produced mistakes. Hence it is that men talk as if one
idea was the efficient cause of another ; hence they mis-
take inferences of reason for perceptions of sense ; hence
they confound the power residing in somewhat external
with the proper object of sense ; which is in truth no more
than our own idea.

17. When we have well understood and considered the
nature of Vision '^, we may, by reasoning from thence, be
better able to collect some knowledge of the external un-
seen Cause of our ideas ; whether it be one or many,
intelligent or unintelligent, active or inert, body or spirit.
But, in order to understand and comprehend this Theory,
and discover the true principles thereof, we should consider
the likeliest way is, not to attend to unknown substances,
external causes, agents or powers ; nor to reason or infer
anything about or from things obscure, unperceived, and
altogether unknown.

18. As in this inquiry we are concerned with what
objects we perceive, or our own ideas, so, upon them our
reasonings must proceed. To treat of things utterly un-
known as if we knew them, and so lay our beginning in
obscurity, would not surely seem the properest means for
the discovering of truth. Hence it follows, that it would
be wrong if one about to treat of the nature of Vision,
should, instead of attending to visible ideas, define the
object of sight to be that obscure Cause, that invisible
Power or Agent, which produced visible ideas in our
minds. Certainly such Cause or Power does not seem
to be the object either of the sense or the science of Vision,
inasmuch as what we know thereby we know only of the
effects. Having premised thus much, I now proceed to

* In other words, we must con- ' i. e. what we are conscious

trast the objects or appearances of of in seeing — apart from the active

which we are conscious in each cause which gives rise to the

of our senses — the immediate data sight,
of each sense.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

consider the principles laid down in your Letter, which
I shall take in order as they lie.

19, ' In your first paragraph or section, you say that
' whatever it is without which is the cause of any idea
within, you call the object of sense ' ; and you tell us soon
after this', 'that we cannot possibly have an idea of any
object without.' — Hence it follows that by an object of sense
you mean something that we can have no manner of idea
of. This making the objects of sense to be things utterly
insensible seems to me contrary to common sense and the
use of language. That there is nothing in the reason of
things to justify such a definition is, 1 think, plain from
what has been premised '. And that it is contrary to
received custom and opinion, I appeal to the experience of
the first man you meet, who I suppose will tell you that
by an object of sense he means that which is perceived
by sense, and not a thing utterly unperceivable and un-
known. The Beings, Substances, Powers which exist
without may indeed concern a treatise on some other
science, and may there become a proper subject of inquiry.
But, why they should be considered as objects of the
visive faculty, in a treatise of Optics, I do not com-
prehend '.

20. The real objects of sight we see, and what we see
we know. And these true objects of sense and know-
ledge, to wit, our own ideas, are to be considered,
compared, distinguished, in order to understand the true
Theory of Vision. As to the outward Cause of these ideas,
whether it be one and the same, or various and manifold,
whether it be thinking or unthinking, spirit or body, or

' Sect. 19-34 contain answers to
the objectiooa or the AnoHytnoHs
IVriier, and remarks upon his

' [Sect.^.] — AuTHOH.

= [Supra, sect 9, 11, la.]—
Author. In short, Berkeley and
his critic use the lerni objccl o/'seiise
differently.

' Here, as elsewhere, Berkeley
insists upon a distinction between
the appearances of which we are

actually conscious i.i sense (which
he calls otjects or idias of sense),
on the one hand, and, on the other
hand, what is suggis/ai by the
objects of sense — between pnseni
objects of sense and ahstHi objects
suggested by them ; and between
both or these the Divine Power on
which they both depend, and by
which their relations ore deter-

390 THE THEORY OF .VISION

whatever else we conceive or determine about it, the
visible appearances do not alter their nature : our ideas
are still the same. Though I may have an erroneous
notion of the Cause, or though I may be utterly ignorant
of its nature, yet this does not hinder my making true and
certain judgments about my ideas ; my knowing which are
the same, and which different ; wherein they agree, and
wherein they disagree ; which are connected together,
and wherein this connexion consists ; whether it be
founded in a likeness of nature, in a geometrical necessity,
or merely in experience and custom.

21. In your second section^ you say that ' if we had but one
sense, we might be apt to conclude there were no objects
at all without us ; but that, since the same object is the
cause of ideas by different senses, thence we infer its
existence.* — Now, in the first place, I observe, that I am at
a loss concerning the point which is here assumed, and
would fain be informed how we come to know that the
same object causeth ideas by different senses. In the
next place, I must observe that, if I had only one sense,
I should nevertheless infer and conclude there was some
cause without me (which you, it seems, define to be an
object\ producing the sensations or ideas perceived by that
sense. For, if I am conscious that I do not cause them,
and know that they are not the cause of themselves, both
which points seem very clear, it plainly follows that there
must be some other third cause distinct from me and
them \

22. In your third section y you acknowledge with me that
'the connexion between ideas of different senses ariseth
only from experience.* — Herein we are agreed.

In your fourth section you say that 'a word denoting an
external object, is the representative of no manner of idea.
Neither can we possibly have an idea of what is solely
without us.' — What is here said of an external unknown
object hath been already considered ^

23. In the following section of your Letter, you declare
that 'our ideas have only an arbitrary connexion with

* A Power of some sort, external my senses — because distinguishable

to my power, may accordingly be in its operation from my personal

inferred from the appearances of agency,
which I am conscious in each of ^ [Supra, sect. 19.] — Author.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED 39I

outward objects, that they are nothing like the outward
objects, and that a variation in our ideas doth not imply or
infer a change in the objects, which may still remain the
same.' — Now, to say nothing about the confused use of
the word 'object,' which hath been more than once already
observed, I shall only remark that the points asserted in
this section do not seem to consist with some others that
follow.

24. For, in the sixth section^ you say that ' in the present
situation of things, there is an infallible certain connexion
between the idea and the object.' — But how can we per-
ceive this connexion, since, according to you, we never
perceive such object, nor can have any idea of it ? or, not
perceiving it, how can we know this connexion to be in-
fallibly certain ?

25. In the seventh section^ it is said that ' we may, from
our infallible experience, argue from our idea of one sense
to that of another.* — But, I think it is plain that our ex-
perience of the connexion between ideas of sight and touch
is not infallible ; since, if it were, there could be no deceptio
vt'sus, neither in painting, perspective, dioptrics, nor any
otherwise.

26. In the lastsectiofiy you affirm that 'experience plainly
teaches us that a just proportion is observed in the altera-
tion of the ideas of each sense, from the alteration of the
object' — Now, I cannot possibly reconcile this section with
the fifth ; or comprehend how experience should shew us
that the alteration of the object produceth a proportionable
alteration in the ideas of different senses, or how indeed
it should shew us anything at all either from or about
the alteration of an object utterly, unknown, of which we
neither have nor can have any manner of idea. What
I do not perceive or know, how can I perceive or
know to be altered ? And, knowing nothing of its altera-
tions, how can I compute anything by them, deduce any-
thing from them, or be said to have any experience about
them ' ?

^ In the preceding sections, Hamilton to this. Whatisun-

Berkeley is virtually arguing against presentabje^ to. anyL_of_niy__aeftS«»

a wholly representative perception of must be unrepresentable in sensuous

things. Here and elsewhere he imagination,
anticipates objections of Rcid and

392 THE THEORY OF VISION

27. From the observations you have premised, rightly
understood and considered, you say it follows that my
* New Theory of Vision must in great measure fall to the
ground ; and the laws of Optics will be found to stand upon
the old unshaken bottom/ — But, though I have considered
and endeavoured to understand your remarks, yet I do
not in the least comprehend how this conclusion can be
inferred from them. The reason you assign for such
inference is, because, ' although our ideas in one sense are
entirely different from our ideas in another, yet we may
justly argue from one to the other, as they have one
common cause without, of which, as without,* you say,
'we cannot possibly have even the faintest idea.* — Now,
my theory nowhere supposeth that we may not justly
argue from the ideas of one sense to those of another,
by analogy and by experience ; on the contrary, this very
point is affirmed, proved, or supported throughout \

28. Indeed I do not see how the inferences which we
make from visible to tangible ideas include any considera-
tion of one common unknown external cause, or depend
thereon, but only on mere custom or habit. The experi-
ence which I have had that certain ideas of one sense
are attended or connected with certain ideas of a different
sense is, I think, a sufficient reason why the one may
suggest the other ^

29. In the next place, you affirm that * something without ^
which is the cause of all the variety of ideas within in
one sense, is the cause also of the variety in another:
and, as they have a necessary connexion with it, we very
justly demonstrate, from our ideas of feeling of the same
object, what will be our ideas of seeing.* — ^As to which,
give me leave to remark that to inquire whether that
unknown something be the same in both cases, or different,
is a point foreign to Optics ; inasmuch as our perceptions
by the visive faculty will be the very same, however we
determine that point. Perhaps I think that the same
Being which causeth our ideas of sight doth cause not
only our ideas of touch likewise, but also all our ideas

' [ Theory of Vision^ sect. 38 and constancy of the connexion — in
78, &c.] — Author. a word, the interpretability of

^ Not unless I presuppose the nature.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

393

of all the other senses, with all the varieties thereof.
But this, I say, is foreign to the purpose ',

30. As to what you advance, that our ideas have a
necessary connexion with such cause, it seems to me gratis
dictum : no reason is produced for this assertion ; and
I cannot assent to it without a reason. The ideas or
effects I grant are evidently perceived : but the cause
you say is utterly unknown'. How then can you tell
whether such, untnown cause acts arbitrarily or neces-
sarily? I see the effects or appearances: and I know
that effects must have a cause: but I neither see nor
know that their connexion with that cause is necessary.
Whatever there may be, I am sure I see no such necessary
connexion, nor, consequently, can demonstrate by means
thereof from ideas of one sense Co those of another.

31. You add that ' although to talk of seeing by tangible
angles and lines be direct nonsense, yet, to demonstrate
from angles and lines in feelings to the ideas in seeing
that arise from the same common object is very good
sense, '^If by this no more is meant than that men might
argiie and compute geometrically by lines and angles in
Optics, it is so far from carrying in it any opposition
to my theory that I have expressly declared the same
thing*. This doctrine, as admitted by me, is indeed
subject to certain limitations ; there being divers cases
wherein the writers of Optics thought we judged by lines
and angles, or by a sort of natural geometry, with regard
to which I think they were mistaken, and I have given
my reasons for it. And those reasons, as they are un-
touched in your letter, retain their force with me.

32. I have now gone through your reflexions, which
the conclusion intimates to have been written in haste,
and, having considered them with all the attention I am

' He thus recalls his fundamental with the efftcis — the immediate

conception of the active causality data of the sevcrni senses, and

of sensible things in God, as op- (heir relations to one another,

posed to their active causality in as immediately-perceived sensuous

an unknown Something, called sign, and mediately - perceived

Matter, supposed to exist inde- sensible meaning,

pendently of all Mind. ' [I.tilcr,sea.. iand4.] — Author.

' In Optics we are concerned ' IThtory of Vision, aect. 78.]—

e^iclusivdy, according to Berkeley, Author,

394 THE THEORY OF VISION

master of, must now leave it to the thinking reader to
judge whether they contain anything that should oblige
me to depart from what I have advanced in my Theory
of Vision. For my own part, if I were ever so willing,
it is not on this occasion in my power to indulge myself
in the honest satisfaction it would be frankly to give up
a known error ; a thing so much more right and reputable
to denounce than to defend. On the contrary, it should
seem that the Theory will stand secure ; since you agree
with me that men do not see by lines and angles ; since
I, on the other hand, agree with you that we may never-
theless compute in Optics by lines and angles, as I have
expressly shewed ; since all that is said in your Letter
about the object, the same object, the alteration of the
object, is quite foreign to the Theory, which considereth
our ideas ^ as the object of sense, and hath nothing to
do with that unknown, unperceived, unintelligible thing
which you signify by the word object^. Certainly the
laws of Optics will not stand on the old, unshaken bottom,
if it be allowed that we do not see by geometry ' ; if it
be evident that explications of phenomena given by the
received theories in Optics are insufficient and faulty;
if other principles are found necessary for explaining the
nature of vision ; if there be no idea, nor kind of idea,
common to both senses ^ contrary to the old received
universal supposition of optic writers.

33. We not only impose on others but often on ourselves,
by the unsteady or ambiguous use of terms. One would
imagine that an object should be perceived. I must own,
when that word is employed in a different sense, that I am
at a loss for its meaning, and consequently cannot com-
prehend any arguments or conclusions about it. And
I am not sure that, on my own part, some inaccuracy of
expression, as well as the peculiar nature of the subject,
not always easy either to explain or conceive, may not
have rendered my Treatise concerning Vision difficult to
a cursory reader. But, to one of due attention, and who
makes my words an occasion of his own thinking, I con-

' * our ideas/ i. e. the appear- ^ {Letter, sect. 8 J — Author.

ances presented to us in each of * [Theory of Vision^ sect. 127.] —

the senses. Author.

2 [Supra, sect. 14.] — Author.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

395

ceive the whole to be very intelligible: and, when it is
rightly understood, I scarce doubt but it will be assented to.
One thing at least I can affirm, that, if I am mistaken,
I can plead neither haste nor inattention, having taken
true pains and much thought about it.

34. And had you. Sir, thought it worth while to have
dwelt more particularly on the subject, to have pointed out
distinct passages in my Treatise, to have answered any
of my objections to the received notions, refuted any of my
arguments in behalf of mine, or made a particular appli-
cation of your own ; I might without doubt have profited
by your reflections. But it seems to me we have been
considering, either different things, or else the same things
in such different views as the one can cast no light on the
other. I shall, nevertheless, take this opportunity to make
a review of my Theory, in order to render it more easy and
clear; and the rather because, as 1 had applied myself
betimes to this subject, it became familiar; and in treating
of things familiar to ourselves, we are too apt to think
them so to others.

35. 'It seemed proper, if not unavoidable, to begin in
the accustomed style of optic writers, admitting divers
things as true, which, in a rigorous sense, are not such,
but only received by the vulgar and admitted as such.
There hath been a long and close connexion in our minds
between the ideas of sight and touch'. Hence they are
considered as one thing; which prejudice suiteth well
enough with the purpose of life, amij^guage is suited
to thisjrejudice. The work of science and'specliration
is" ttriinravel our prejudices and mistakes, untwisting the
closest connexions, distinguishing things that are different;
instead of confused or perplexed, giving us distinct views ;
gradually correcting our judgment, and reducing it to a
philosophical exactness. And, as this work is the work
of time, and done by degrees, it is extremely difficult, if at
all possible, to escape the snares of popular language, and
the being betrayed thereby to say things strictly speaking

' SetL 35-47 c

Language in which God is

ally addres

396 THE THEORY OF VISION

neither true nor consistent. This makes thought and
candour more especially necessary in the reader. For,
language being accommodated to the praenotions of men
and use of life, it is difficult to express therein the precise
truth of things, which is so distant from their use, and so
contrary to our praenotions ^

36. In the contrivance of Vision, as that of other things,
the wisdom of Providence seemeth to have consulted the
operation rather than the theory of man ; to the former
things are admirably fitted, but, by that very means, the
latter is often perplexed ^. For, as useful as these immediate
suggestions and constant connexions are to direct our
actions; so is our distinguishing between things confounded,
and as it were blended together, no less necessary to the
speculation and knowledge of truth.

37. The knowledge of these connexions, relations, and
differences of things visible and tangible, their nature,
force, and significancy hath not been duly considered by
former writers on Optics, and seems to have been the
great desideratum in that science, which for want thereof
was confused and imperfect. A Treatise, therefore, of this
philosophical kind, for the understanding of Vision, is at
least as necessary as the physical consideration of the eye,
nerve, coats, humours, refractions, bodily nature, and
motion of light ; or as the geometrical application of lines
and angles for praxis or theory, in dioptric glasses and
mirrors, for computing and reducing to some rule and
measure our judgments, so far as they are proportional
to the objects of geometry. In these three lights Vision
should be considered, in order to a complete Theory
of Optics.

38. It is to be noted that, in considering the Theory of
Vision, I observed a certain known method, wherein, from
false and popular suppositions, men do often arrive at truth.
Whereas in the synthetical method of delivering science
or truth already found, we proceed in an inverted order;
the conclusions in the analysis being assumed as principles

^ Cf. Principles of Human Know- intelligence, whose philosophy may

/^fl(§'^—* Introduction.* be intelligent enough for conduct,

'^ This sentence expresses well while charged with speculative

the final conceptions of things that mysteries,
are possible to an Mfiomniscient

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

397

in the synthesis. I shall therefore now begin with that
conclusion, that Vision is the Language of Ike Author of
Nature, from thence deducing theorems and solutions of
phenomena, and explaining the nature of visible things
and the visive faculty'.

39. Ideas which are observed to be connected with other
ideas come to be considered as signs, by means whereof
things not actually perceived by sense are signified or
suggested to the imagination ; whose objects they are, and
which alone perceives them. And, as sounds suggest
other things, so characters suggest other sounds; and, in
genera], all signs suggest the things signified, there being
no idea which may not offer to the mind another idea
which hath been frequently joined with it. In certain
cases a sign may suggest its correlate as an image, in
others as an effect, in others as a cause. But, where there
is no such relation of similitude or causality, nor any
necessary connexion whatsoever, two things, by their
mere coexistence, or two ideas, merely by being perceived
together, may suggest or signify one the other, their
connexion being all the while arbitrary ; for it is the con-
nexion only, as such, that causeth this effect-.

40. A great number of arbitrary signs-', various and
opposite, do constitute a Language. If such arbitrary
connexion ' be instituted by men, it is an artificial language ;

' In the original Essay louiards
a New Tlifory of Vhion, Berkeley
proceeds analytically ; whereas,
in the following synopsis, he Rrst
hypothetically assumes the exist-
ence of a Visual Language — with
whichthecarliertreatiseconcludes.
He then proceeds to verify this, by
shewing synthetically that it ex-
plains the phenomena of Vision ;
and in particular solves difEculties
contained in our judgments of the
situations, sizes, and distances of

' ' Suggestion ' is the coiislivc-
livf tendency recognised in the
New Theory ; which is an ap-
plication or the law of constant
association, regulating imagination
and belief in harmony with the con-

stant sequences and coexistet
divinely established among phi
mena. It may be compared >
Kant's theory of peri-pnHon
cording to which "

the forms of space
made intelligible

the categories, in ^ms,
' Berkeley says that space
neiuicr an intellectual notion,
nor perceived by any of the. .,^...,^_
' The natural connexion which
makes them signs seems 'arbitrary'
on account of our inadequate know
ledge of rational order and adapts
of the uni-

398 THE THEORY OF VISION

if by the Author of Nature, it is a natural language.
Infinitely various are the modifications of light and sound;
whence they are each capable of supplying an endless
variety of signs, and, accordingly, have been each employed
to form languages ; the one by the arbitrary appointment
of mankind, the other by that of God Himself ^ A con-
nexion established by the Author of Nature, in the ordinary
course of things, may surely be called natural, as that
made by men will be named artificial. And yet this doth
not hinder but the one may be as arbitrary as the other.
And, in fact, there is no more likeness to exhibit, or neces-
sity to infer, things tangible from the modifications of light,
than there is in language to collect the meaning from the
sound ^ But such as the connexion is of the various tones
and articulations of voice with their several meanings, the
same is it between the various modes of light and their
respective correlates, or, in other words, between the ideas
of sight and touch.

41. As to light, and its several modes or colours, all
thinking men are agreed that they are ideas peculiar only
to sight ; neither common to the touch, nor of the same
kind with any that are perceived by that sense. But herein
lies the mistake, that, beside these, there are supposed
other ideas common to both senses, being equally per-
ceived by sight and touch, such as Extension, Size, Figure,
and Motion. But that there are in reality no such common
ideas, and that the objects of sight', marked by these words,
are entirely different and heterogeneous from whatever is
the object of feeling ^ marked by the same names, hath
been proved in the Theory ^, and seems by you admitted ;
though I cannot conceive how you should in reason admit
this, and at the same time contend for .the received
theories, which are so much ruined as mine is established
by this main part and pillar thereof.

42. To perceive is one thing ; to judge is another. So

* [^Minute Philosopher^ Dial. IV. * i. e. the iww^e/iVi/^ objects— the
sect 7, 1 1. J — ^Author. appearances of which we are con-

* [Theory of Vision, sect. 144 and scious in our tactual, muscular, and
147.] — Author. locomotive experience.

' i. e. the immediate objects — the * [Theory of Vision^ sect. 127.]—

appearances of which we are Author.
visually conscious.

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED

399

likewise, to be suggested is one thing, and to be inferred
another. Things are suggested and perceived by sense.
We make judgments and inferences by the understanding.
What we immediately and properly perceive by sight is
its primary object — light and colours. What is suggested,
or perceived by mediation thereof, are tangible ideas,
which may be considered as secondary and improper
objects of sight. We infer causes from effects, effects from
causes, and properties one from another, where the con-
nexion is necessary'. But how comes it to pass that we
apprehend by Che ideas of sight certain other ideas, which
neither resemble them, nor cause them, nor are caused by
them, nor have any necessary connexion with them ? — the
solution of this problem, in its full extent, doth comprehend
the whole Theory of Vision. This stating of the matter
placeth it on a new foot, and in a different light from all
preceding theories,

43. To explain how the mind or soul of man simply
sees is one thing, and belongs to Philosophy. To consider
particles as moving in certain lines, rays of light as re-
fracted or reflected, or crossing, or including angles, is
quite another thing, and appertaineth to Geometry. To
account for the sense of vision by the mechanism of the
eye is a third thing, which appertaineth to Anatomy and
experiments. These two latter speculations are of use in
practice, to assist the defects and remedy the distempers
of sight, agreeably to the natural laws contained in this
mundane system. But the former Theory is that which
makes us understand the true nature of Vision, considered
as a faculty of the soul. Which Theory, as I tiave already
observed, may be reduced to this simple question, to wit.
How comes it to pass that a set of ideas, altogether
different from tangible ideas, should nevertheless suggest

' The Theory of Vision is thus
confined to the two elements of
immedi'afe pcTctplion (of the data
peculiar to sight) ; and suggcsUon
in hiuiginalion (of data peculiar to
touch), erroneously supposed to in-
volve perception of absolutely ne-
cessary relations, as distinguished
from the apparently arbitrary or
■ contingent relations. Jiidgnuiil

and infirena are assigned to the

necessaty truth, and not with 'arbi-
trary' connexion, either in the sub-
jective imagination of individual
men, or in that objective Provi-
dence of God by which sense-
experience, andconsequentlyscica'
tilic prevision, is determined.

400 THE THEORY OF VISION

them to us, there being no necessary connexion between
them ? To which the proper answer is, That this is done
in virtue of an arbitrary connexion, instituted by the Author
of Nature.

44. The proper, immediate object of vision is light, in
all its modes and variations, various colours in kind,
in degree, in quantity ; some lively, others faint ; more of
some and less of others ; various in their bounds or limits ;
various in their order and situation. A blind man, when
first made to see, might perceive these objects, in which
there is an endless variety : but he would neither perceive
nor imagine any resemblance or connexion between these
visible objects and those perceived by feeling*. Lights,
shades, and colours would suggest nothing to him about
bodies, hard or soft, rough or smooth : nor would their
quantities, limits, or order suggest to him geometrical
figures, or extension, or situation, which they must do
upon the received supposition, that these objects are
common to sight and touch.

45. All the various sorts, combinations, quantities, de-
grees, and dispositions of light and colours, would, upon
the first perception thereof, be considered in themselves
only as a new set of sensations and ideas. As they are
wholly new and unknown, a man born blind would not, at
first sight, give them the names of things formerly known
and perceived by his touch ^ But, after some experience,
he would perceive ^ their connexion with tangible things,
and would, therefore, consider them as signs, and give
them (as is usual in other cases) the same names with the
things signified.

46. More and less, greater and smaller, extent, propor-
tion, interval are all found in Time as in Space ; but it
will not therefore follow that these are homogeneous
quantities. No more will it follow, from the attribution
of common names, that visible ideas are homogeneous
with those of feeling. It is true that terms denoting
tangible extension, figure, location, motion, and the like,

^ [Theory of Vision, SGCi, ^1 and blind,' when they first receive

106.] — Author. sight, is conjectured.

2 Cf. Essay on Vision, sect. 41, ^ i.e. perceive mediately, through

and other passages in which the suggestion,
probable experience of the * born

VINDICATED AND EXPLAINED 40I

are also applied to denote the quantity, relation, and order
of the proper visible objects, or ideas of sight. But this
proceeds only from ex

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Full text of "The works of George Berkeley, including his posthumous works; with prefaces, annotations, appendices, and an account of his life"

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